Chapter Eighty-Two: Fang Zhiyin Explains One by One

At twenty-five, Ouyang Junyan could no longer contain his anger when he saw Fang Zhiyin remain silent for so long. “Why won’t you say anything?” he snapped.

Fang Zhiyin shot him an exasperated glare. “If you knew what I’ve been through these past two days—if you knew what Chen Linlin, your precious idol, did to me—would you still be yelling at me like this?”

“What are you talking about…” he asked, his face a mask of disbelief.

“She hired people to kidnap us, and then she threw me into the sea!” Fang Zhiyin hadn’t intended to reveal this, but Ouyang’s relentless questioning left her no choice. She spoke the truth. “You don’t know anything. All you see is her perfect image, but do you know what sort of person she really is?”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Ouyang Junyan—”

Underground banks, black-market arms dealers, mercenary groups, illegal island syndicates—these were all things that could easily draw the attention of dangerous adversaries.

Life had become a struggle for survival. It was only recently—nine months ago, to be precise—when a problem with the water supply in the upper world left them without fish to catch.

What stung even more was that Qin Moxian had refused his offer to help deal with Moye, leaving a simmering anger in his heart.

Luan Mo narrowed his eyes, twisting his body to narrowly avoid the incoming palm strike. With his right hand, he gripped his blade and swung horizontally, aiming to sever the left arm of the man in the pale gray robe.

To witness a friend die before one’s eyes, and to be powerless to confront the enemy—such a feeling was anything but bearable.

Clutching his aching chest, Hu Jue explained, “If we had a fellow cultivator skilled in formations join us, our plans would become utterly foolproof.”

The turntable spun at a dizzying speed, generating a formidable centrifugal force—a constant obstacle the two combatants had to overcome.

On the surface of the water, three or four golden lotus leaves drifted in solitude alongside a single unopened lotus bud. From below, dark gold and vermilion rays flickered, tinting the once translucent jade-green pond water a shade of pink. When the light refracted off the leaves, the whole surface took on an aura of sanctity that was utterly enchanting.

Hu Yue, Jin Qing, and the others wore expressions of constant change. None of them had anticipated that Fang Chen would possess such a potent transformation artifact—or that the strange man would wield such formidable powers.

No wonder Jingwen had joined the fray. It remained to be seen who else, besides Jingwen and Eurydice, would be drawn to the commotion.

Unable to fight, unable to escape, unable even to hide—the situation was dire. Worse still, in their desperation to flee, the beastmen had abandoned much of their supplies, plunging their already ill-equipped fleet into true peril.

In response to Red Cloud Guardian’s questioning, Duan Lingtian merely cast her a cool glance and spoke a single sentence.

Though the enemy was a newly ascended supreme, his strength was by no means inferior to those who had long reached that rank but made no further progress.

Qin Mengdie opened the chest. Inside lay a bright red dress, its hem embroidered with flowers she had once admired for their beauty. Yet from the start, she had known it was not hers to claim, and so, no matter how lovely, she could not truly appreciate it.

In these war-torn times, so many things were lacking that Qin Mengdie could not help but worry. She walked over to the two of them and asked her question.

In sheer size, the giant elephant dwarfed the palm print—one of its feet could easily cover an entire hand.

Turning away, Shi Changmiao headed for the fourth floor, pulling out his phone and dialing a number as he walked.

The next day, whether they liked it or not, the independent merchants followed—some openly, others in secret. There was no way to forbid them from joining the caravan north, so in the end, their presence was tacitly accepted.

What truly surprised him was that Fang Mengyao, who had always kept a low profile in the trading city, suddenly became bold upon reaching the Bei City base—even joining the zombie-hunting team to reveal her formidable strength.

With a crash, her body was kicked and sent flying like a swallow, slamming into the wall. Her sword slipped from her grasp with a metallic clang and fell to the ground.

“Now that she’s become a vengeful spirit, leaving her in the mortal realm will only bring harm to the people. She cannot be allowed to remain,” Ruo Li said softly.