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Chapter 1003: The Power to Steal One’s Soul

“Sect Leader didn’t force us. I was the one who volunteered to teach her the forging skills.” Gongxi Kuangdao agreed with Ling Chuxi but he almost choked. You didn’t force us, but if it wasn’t for the poison, would I have volunteered to teach you forging skills? “I don’t know if the poison can resolve itself in three days at most but if anyone can survive even six hours of its effects, I, Gongxi Kuangdao, will give up my ancestry and take that person’s surname.”

“Shameless, she’s just too shameless. How could she say such shameless words?” Lan Xinyu and the others had already seen the power of Ling Chuxi’s poison. It was a fate worse than death, so they completely understood Gongxi Kuangdao’s current dilemma.

Even Little Red popped out of Ling Chuxi’s pocket and looked at Gongxi Kuangdao pitifully. He had also suffered from Ling Chuxi’s poison. Even in his demon emperor form, he had been poisoned to the point he was half-dead, let alone Gongxi Kuangdao. Looking at Gongxi Kuangdao’s aggrieved expression, he actually felt a sense of sympathy for him.

“Yes, I understand, I understand.” Duan Feiyu wiped his cold sweat. The poor Gongxi Kuangdao had even said such a disloyal thing. It was obvious how badly he had been poisoned. Ling Chuxi was really shameless. Look at how self-righteous her words were. He remembered what Ling Chuxi had said before: these people were actually reasonable and easy to convince, thus they would take the initiative to help without asking. Duan Feiyu broke out in even more cold sweat. There was one thing that was absolutely true. Don’t be Ling Chuxi’s enemy, ever.

“Okay, let’s go.” Ling Chuxi looked at everyone’s expressions and knew that her words were useless. She was too lazy to explain anymore, so she jumped into the carriage.

Everyone got into the carriage and headed toward the direction of Qianzhong Ridge with vigour.

...

Somewhere in the Sacred Realm of the Sects, in a room that was exquisitely decorated but not lacking in elegance, an abnormally fat middle-aged man stood upright with a solemn expression. It was Jin Buhuan of the Feng Yan Union.

At this moment, Jin Buhuan no longer had the dignity of the Feng Yan Union deacon. Instead, he looked like a student who was listening to his teacher’s teachings. Fine beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, down the tip of his nose and onto his bulging belly. However, he did not dare to reach out to wipe it off.

A young man who looked to be in his early twenties sat on a red sandalwood chair. His gaze would occasionally sweep across Jin Buhuan’s face.

At first glance, this man’s appearance seemed very ordinary. However, if one were to take a closer look, one would discover that his facial features were so perfect as if they had been measured with a ruler. The more one looked at him, the more one would feel as if one’s breath was being taken away; as if there was a power that could steal one’s soul.

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