Volume One, Chapter 27: A BGM That Took the World by Storm!

“Master Sun, don’t waste your time; it’s all tasteless, rustic nonsense. That person earlier was so vulgar—how could he possibly write anything worthwhile?”
“I was right, wasn’t I? It’s nothing but a pile of rubbish!” Seeing the anxious look on Lu Yaoyao’s face, Yang Wei urged her again.

“Enough. Quiet.” Unexpectedly, Master Sun raised his hand, stopping Yang Wei.

“Peach leaves are sharp at the tips, and willow leaves shade the sky…”

As Yang Wei and Lu Yaoyao exchanged confused glances, Master Sun began to sing.

Master Sun Qi’s voice rose slowly—tentative at first, but soon he was entirely immersed in the melody of “Exploring the Clear River.” He continued…

When Zheng Ming approached, the White Serpent lashed out with its tail again, obliterating him. Then, it charged toward Zheng Ming’s shattered body, launching another attack.

Unless martial artists practiced unique techniques or followed particular paths, most could use their inner energy to subtly alter their appearance and disposition.

He spoke as he pointed at his own fierce face, a hint of pride and arrogance in his brows.

“Master Shi Jian, the Five Precepts: the second, do not steal. How could you break your vows?” Xuan Yi did not open his eyes, but his words were solemn.

Because of this, Qing Ling spat back at Xiao Xiao’s words, though in truth, how could Gu Fei not understand its intentions?

Princess Huaisi was filled with guilt—she had recovered from illness thanks to Wei Qingqing’s medicine and had become slimmer and more beautiful, but Wei Qingqing herself had developed a rash from testing the medicine for her.

Lu Wenhou, with his flawless mastery of the Sky Halberd, once again shattered the delicate balance of the battlefield.

A stream of pure super-energy formed in Xia Fan’s left eye, the Nether King’s Gaze, and swiftly flowed into Mu Yunxi’s body.

Though the two were unrelated, with Linda having escaped and even returned, there was now an opportunity.

“Xuan Yi, you…” Shen Qingjun, worried, removed the red cloth and touched Xuan Yi’s forehead. His cheeks were flushed, his skin burning, and though his eyes were closed, his eyeballs were visibly rolling beneath his lids.

With those words, Xiangyang raised his fist and mercilessly pummeled Wu Tong, each punch landing heavily, showing no restraint.

The Leopardfolk excelled in one-on-one combat, which suited Zack’s tastes perfectly. They quickly gathered before him, eager to prove themselves.

The young scholar seemed struck as if by a whip, lowering his head and sitting in silence, wanting to vanish entirely.

Chen Bo looked on in disbelief at Qian Xi, lying in the coffin, smiling sweetly at him—his mind suddenly went blank.

“Finally, I’ve shaken them off,” the man muttered to himself. Yet he didn’t realize that among those lying in wait and tracking him, there was more than just the police; a powerful C-rank mercenary had his sights locked on him. Just as he was smugly preparing to abscond with the money, Chu Yun had already found his trail.

Chen Bo frowned deeply. With his demon eye, he could clearly see that the two before him had long since “switched” identities.

Those people would certainly adhere to discipline, for now only the elders knew of this method.

Following the flashlight beam, Han Yue’s face grew grave. With more courage than Song Qing, who tried to hold her back, she took two steps forward and flung open the restroom door.

Shi Zongyue was especially busy today. This precious coffee break was something he’d carved out with difficulty.

But just at that moment, another earth-shattering boom exploded. Everyone turned to see a half-step Nascent Soul puppet crash to the ground.

If Han Xin, Zhang Liang, and Xiao He could be gathered, Pang Lin was confident that Wei could now rival Qin and perhaps defeat them entirely. What Pang Lin did not know was that, in history, Han Xin had not yet been born—so how could he possibly serve?

Her steps light, the tiny crystals on her gown shimmered gently. Her hair was coiled high, leaving only two locks curling by her cheeks with an air of spirited nobility. Ye Qingzhou’s figure was already striking, and in this form-fitting mermaid gown, her curves were on full display.

But Qingluo was far from simple—especially with that quasi-demonic spiritual weapon. Even Yan Chutian couldn’t tell whether Xue’er would ultimately prevail.

To King Wei Ping, Wei Feng was the greatest threat. After all, Ping’s kingship had only been secured after Wei Feng, the former crown prince, was deposed.

Facing Huang Xiaoyang’s provocations, Hu Mingchen ignored him entirely. The best way to deal with such people was to act as if they didn’t exist—the more attention you gave them, the more they would act out.

Moments later, when he came down from the elevator and looked through the glass door, he saw a young man lurking suspiciously outside.

Though Ye Qingzhou had not been in great shape before, seeing Shi Zongyue made her condition even worse.

The chef’s body had turned purple all over, clearly poisoned to the core. The patriarch gently raised his hand, his fingertip passing lightly over the chef as if brushing away the dust of ages, his brows furrowed in concern.

Even so, Yu Feiyan’s mother had always maintained her frugal habits, buying New Year’s goods not at big malls but at wholesale markets far from the city.

Wasn’t he looking for Lin Xizhi? Why did he suddenly show up at the entrance of Listening Rain Pavilion like this?

Chu Yunxue steadied herself, smoothed her hair, and stepped out with poise.

On the first day of school, all new students must hand in their funds. The school provides a card loaded with ten thousand points, and before graduating in senior year, everyone must earn a million points—equivalent to a million yuan—or they cannot graduate.

Suddenly, Shen Hanmo’s hand paused, his elbow striking the glass table with a sharp, jarring sound that drew every eye in the room.

People like her were selfish and shameless, stealing others’ boyfriends without a shred of guilt, yet playing the victim and pressuring the real victim. Such thick-skinned audacity was unmatched—building her happiness on the innocent’s pain. How could the original’s death not have her share of responsibility?