North Liao

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go. 
Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass. 
Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons. 
On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes. 
A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past. 
Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.

Journey to the End of the Night

Just such petty scoundrels, daring to harm the Senior Brother.


Fang Geyu clicked his tongue twice, his voice clearly melodious, yet his tone deliberately arrogant and frivolous.


"Today, I came looking for Jiujiu. You lot are truly an eyesore. Seeing the situation, you wouldn't voluntarily leave the mountain. So, get your asses up and tuck in nicely, make your body well-rounded, and roll down the mountain in a charmingly graceful pose."


With a light clap on the Qiankun Bag, in a flash, shoosh, shoosh, shoosh, several white lights surged forth.


The renowned mechas lined up as they appeared from Shifang City, their metallic hands grasping their heads like catching chicks, forcing them to stick their butts up.


Wei Chiyou was no exception, forced to stick up his bloodstained butt.


Under cries of pain, more than a dozen figures rolled like balls, tumbling far away.


The fall was real and stiff—either dead or crippled.


Chapter 129: