Chapter 38: I Did Not Agree to Her Proposal

After Lu Zheng finished speaking, he showed no trace of chivalry; with a flick of his hand, the woman before him was sent crashing violently to the floor.

Qi Hehe sat on the ground, trembling, her face as pale as a sheet of paper. She looked at the man standing before her, recoiling in terror. The suffocating sensation of his hand tight around her throat seemed to linger still, and the handsome face of the man in front of her was now filled with a sinister gloom, like an Asura from the depths of hell. At this moment, all thoughts of his dashing charm or any infatuation vanished.

The urge to flee suddenly sprouted like a seed in her heart. Yet, in this instant, the impulse was deeply suppressed, for if she were to leave her master, where in this world would she have a place to call home?

At the same time, my mischievous hands had already climbed onto the plump, soft buds, teasing and kneading the most sensitive tips to my heart's content. I chose not to remove her clothing, merely leaving her to transform into a disheveled, alluring creature under the movements of my fingers, exuding an intoxicating aura of desire.

"What is the situation with my father-in-law? Was it he who saved us?" Zhang Yixian asked, puzzled.

In the world of martial arts, so many coveted her beauty. She could easily imagine the vile things men would do to these artifacts if they were ever to fall into the hands of those in the martial world.

The Grand Elder, unable to contain his joy, said, "Ah, I shall immediately arrange for someone to reply to the God King and then set a date for the wedding. Next month, next month seems to have an auspicious day..." The Grand Elder bustled out, muttering to himself as he pondered the dates.

After a brief pause, Liu'er tapped the void before her and silently departed. Was her appearance meant as a reminder, or was it intentional?

"You go first. I'll get you something to eat in a while," Qing Yang mouthed the words clearly, though no sound escaped her lips as she spoke to Lan Yuxuan. Then, she released Lan Yuxuan, allowing her to leave.

"What?" I was startled by the sudden shift in his tone. But just as Qian Mian and I reached the doorway, an iron cage suddenly descended from above.

Hua Diao did not react in time; by the time she regained her senses, Ling Long and the maids had already left.

Although Zhao Ya-ning was somewhat reluctant to seek psychological counseling, he still agreed with his words. Coach Petit certainly wouldn't suggest anything bad; his actions were always in the best interest of the players.

Xiao Mingjian witnessed the scene firsthand and could not help but jump back in fright. His face twisted, as if he were in even more pain than Tian Yun.

"I cast a divination for the General last night," Song Chuyi said, steering the conversation away from his topic.

"Because I was the first to summon the light, the Godhead of Light belongs to me." Feng Qinglang touched his fingertip to Wumannala’s, transferring the dazzling flame to her hand; it was a brilliant sight.

*Wo Yu Huai Jin*—a metaphor for the virtues of a noble gentleman—was chosen by her master in the hope that she might embody such beauty. Yet, because of her crude language and foul temper, she failed to live up to these words in the slightest before her death.

In any case, the matrimonial affairs of the bachelors in Mi Hu Zhen were all resolved within those three days. Uncle Li, brimming with pride, cupped his hands to bid everyone farewell, inviting the villagers from the surrounding ten miles to visit Mi Hu Zhen often.

Qing Yun was stunned. A steward from the Qiao family? Was he sent by Qiao Zhihe? How did he know she had arrived?

"So, it is only the Cloud Mountain Canyon then?" Sima Cuo said, his mind rapidly adjusting his tactical strategy.

"Sister, I don't know what you are talking about." Tian Chanzi smiled with a look of fawning sycophancy, looking as if he were about to bark like a pug.

When those two terms spilled from his lips, they were filled with an endless, unmasked fervor.

It left one with an indescribable feeling—a sense of oppression and tension, as if death itself were imminent.