"What else can I do after signing the Heaven and Earth Contract? Can I just snatch it back?" Pang Dezong was fuming with nowhere to vent, uncharacteristically pulling a long face in front of Zhao Sinin.
If the Heaven and Earth Contract hadn’t been signed, he could have found some excuse to back out. But no, in his haste, fearing that Mu Hanyan might change her mind, he rushed to sign it first. Pang Dezong deeply experienced the pain of shooting himself in the foot, and it was no small pebble—a giant stone, indeed. The agony was suffocating...
"But that’s the relic left by the Elder Ancestor," Zhao Sinin, accustomed to Pang’s usually pleasant demeanor, was taken aback seeing him enraged for the first time, and spoke cautiously.
"Nonsense, of course I know it’s the Master’s relic. If you know, wouldn’t I know as well? Do I really need your reminder?" Pang Dezong became even more resentful when reminded of that.
He had hoped that Mu Hanyan would be tempted by the Divine Artifact to her demise. However, unexpectedly, she stumbled into refining the Cangxuan Cloud Silk completely by mistake. Now, even if she wished to die, she couldn’t. Thɪs chapter is updated by nοvelfire.net
And that damned lad was as crafty as a fox, always on guard against him. Coupled with his Mu Family lineage, trying to covertly seize it from him had become nearly impossible.
The more Pang Dezong thought about it, the bigger his headache grew, and his frustration intensified.
Seeing Pang Dezong choked with stifled rage, Zhao Sinin dared not speak further, shyly standing aside.
"Forget it, it’s just his luck for now; maybe when he messes up the hand gestures, he’ll be shattered to pieces by the Cangxuan Cloud Silk," Pang Dezong said, seeing Zhao Sinin’s timid demeanor, half comforting Zhao and half consoling himself.
However, he knew that this consolation wasn’t realistic at all; the Cangxuan Cloud Silk had been completely refined. Even if the hand gestures went wrong, it would only prevent its use, not cause any accidents—unless his luck turned disastrously bad.
Sigh, in the past, I hoped for incredibly good luck to use the Cangxuan Cloud Silk, but now, hoping for Mu Hanyan’s misfortune, I need his luck to be disastrously bad. Thinking this way, even Pang Dezong himself found it pitiful.
"Uncle Master, are you cursing him?" Zhao Sinin, though fearful, couldn’t help but ask.
What Pang Dezong said might sound uncertain, but it seemed more like a curse.
"Scram!" Pang Dezong really didn’t want to explode, but facing this tactless fellow, he finally snapped, gritting out the word through clenched teeth.
A Sword Master Tutor, Acting Dean of Zhengying Academy, cornered by a mere lad yet to come of age, reduced to cursing like some common fishwife, shy of sticking pins in a voodoo doll—that’s humiliating, truly humiliating!
Mu Hanyan, unconcerned with Pang Dezong’s fragile state of mind, carried a large iron case back to the camp.
Mu Cheng, Wu Qiuyun, and Yan Yuchu were sitting around the campfire. Seeing Mu Hanyan return with a large case piqued their curiosity.
"Aren’t those just two elixirs? Why use such a large case?" Wu Qiuyun circled the case, curiosity written all over his face.
"Just picked it up to play with," Mu Hanyan answered nonchalantly.
"Impossible, this case is clearly crafted with alchemy, intended to store something extremely valuable. There’s no way Pang Dezong would casually give it to you," Wu Qiuyun, with keen eyesight, spotted the extraordinary origin of the case and eyed Mu Hanyan suspiciously.