Forty-two.

The street bustled with throngs of people, and the vendors on the sidewalks were busy making a fortune. He Mian sat down beside the flowerbed and handed one to Su Yun, who shook her head. "I don't want it."

"Hold it for me."

"..."

Su Yun held it in her hand...

With a furious roar, the old locust demon shuddered, its crown rustling in response. Each branch moved as if it were an arm, the twigs at the ends resembling nimble fingers, reaching out to snatch at Die Meng.

At this moment, Rod was also surveying his surroundings intently, yet he could not spot a single wild monster.

"This cave manor is expensive! Without at least ten billion, you can't afford it!" Mi Gui's head shouted loudly.

The great hall was spacious, with sorghum pillars encircling the space; the width was immense and the depth profound. Though doors and windows were tightly shut, the hall did not feel stifling. The nighttime temperatures in northern Shaanxi dropped sharply, and even without wind, it was cool and refreshing. Several candles flickered on the hall, casting the room in dim light.

The Register of Ghosts and the Register of Demons served the same purpose: to help the King of the Enchanted Prison control his subordinates. It could kill cultivators at the Core Formation stage but could not kill those at the Shape Condensation stage.

Lady Evil Flower’s true form was a Flower Sprite Sphere—round and plump like a ball, with tumor-like protrusions on its surface, strikingly similar to the grotesque lumps on the Long-nosed Tumorous Sable Rat.

An army of a thousand, comprised of half-beasts and humans, surrounded the hotel. Upon learning that Lelouch commanded only two hundred men, a thousand were more than enough. Though it was said those two hundred were all cavalry and quite elite, within the confines of the hotel, a thousand soldiers were sufficient to defeat Lelouch.

Before long, Shen Linfeng and his three companions ascended to the second floor. Perhaps because of the martial tournament across the way, there was only a single man drinking alone in the entire upstairs hall.

On the eve of the college entrance exams, a student, unable to bear the crushing weight of academic pressure, took their own life. Such incidents are rare, yet underlying causes always lurk beneath the surface. Because of this, Wutong High School now faced the threat of closure—an outcome no one wished to see.

Awakened by Lin Yun’s words, the disciple was mortified—he had actually been petrified by Lin Yun’s presence. Glancing furtively at those around him, he saw only scornful looks directed his way.

Even though the Dong family now held military power in Chang’an, the threat of a backlash from the noble clans still lingered.

Yet they sensed that Xu Lang’s spree of acquisitions might bode ill for them.

Sweetgrass root, as its name suggested, must be sweet. Even if it wasn’t, as long as it was edible, it was worth collecting to eat.

"There are no rules prohibiting it," Chen Yu said coolly, his gaze fixed on Ye Shuang in the distance.

As if he had heard something heavyhearted, Lu Cheng’s hands, resting on his knees, clenched ever so slightly. At last, he raised his head, his eyes fixed on Duan Bai, his gaze filled with restrained emotion.

In the first round, Old Turtle chose the Prince—a hero he had most often used in his previous livestreams.

Dong Hang snorted coldly. Inside the carriage, Wu You had grabbed something—no one knew what—and was about to hurl it out.

On the other hand, Xue Chen could not help but feel indignant. After all his efforts to secure a spot in the playoffs, now it was all for someone else's benefit. Who could accept such a thing?

This was not the time to pursue the matter of that boat. Yang Tinglin could only organize his men to rescue people. Out on the river, other passing boats, seeing what was happening here, drew closer and offered their assistance.

As she passed by Xuanyuan Che, she caught sight of the lingering sorrow in his eyes. He seemed to have something to say to her. Watching his lips form the words, "I have something to tell you," she understood—Xuanyuan Che wished to speak to her.

Bai Yan paid no heed; the hairpin in his hand was already raised, aimed straight at Zhi Xia’s neck. Paralyzed with fear, Zhi Xia’s limbs went rigid—she could neither run nor dodge. She could only stare, petrified, at his fierce and menacing face.