2026-01-06 20:51:21
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petty aloof man
Elena went speechless as she stared at her. Although, Leah had been smiling throughout. She couldn't help but feel as if she was shunned. Tiffany quickly interfered, hoping to break the ice. “Still, I can't help but feel worried. He left yesterday in a haste. He would have sent a message back if it's taking more time than necessary. This time feels different and I can't help but feel anxious. Throughout last night, I've been restless, unable to gather my thoughts. I never felt that way during his previous missions.” Leah sighed and brought out her phone, typing a message to him. “My phone is connected to his watch, let me try messaging him.” Elena temporarily forgot the slight she was subjected to, more worried about Alvin. “He might not see the message if he's busy. A call will be a grievous mistake. If it rings, it might give out his location.” She groaned and collapsed on a sofa. Shi Meng Ying soon came in with a bouquet of fresh flowers, meant to increase concentration, a
a heart that could not be hidden
Villa number Seven While Murong Wuque’s evil devices flayed the unfortunate three alive, he was focused on resuscitating Alvin. His fingers worked with precision, expelling poisons, resetting fractured ribs, and bones, mending tissues and extracting damaged cells. Lots of his precious pills and slaves were brought out from his special treasury, either fed to Alvin, or smeared over his injuries. The wooden immortal longevity healing needles moved along Alvin's body with precision and expertise of a top master. The level of control needed to execute this was amazing. The needles were special in the sense that they did not just heal the ailment the user intended to tackle, they detect and fish out other abnormalities. The most amazing quality was its effect of improving the internal structure of the recipient and granting longevity. Who doesn't want a long life? Who doesn't crave immortality? That was the reason Murong Wuque never brought it out. It was too precious to be use
Master of wickedness
She kept twitching on the floor, hitting her head and arm severally against the ground. “I'm burning. I'm burning up. My body is on fire. Ah!” The flames, the pricking sensations and lack of control over their bodies was nightmarish. The man's head turned bloody, soaking his clothes. He collapsed to the floor, panting and groaning. The pain was indescribable. It felt as if a million ants were gnawing on him, a thousand flame needles pricking all over his body, especially the sensitive parts. As if someone was cutting at his skin, liver and heart, while flinging him around. The woman felt worse because she also felt the burning sensation, as if someone dumped her in a blazing furnace. Whatever the man felt, she was feeling it thrice the intensity. Her cloak fell away, revealing a seductive beauty in her thirties, with long red hair, and brown eyes. She would have looked sexy if not for the cold aura of danger surrounding her. Miles away from there, senator Bertrand Flitzer,
Won't let you die.
Murong Wuque lifted him out of the tub and carried him to their room. Only a towel was wrapped around Alvin’s waist. His breath rose and fell steadily, but his lips were still pale. He had successfully dredged the deposits in Alvin's chest blocking his breathing. Murong Wuque kept staring at Alvin's face, confused, sad, then in pain. His emotions were all over the place, he didn't know what he was feeling. The most pronounced was pain. He felt agony searing through his heart. What if Alvin didn't return to him alive? What if he collapsed somewhere along the way and never made it home? What if his enemies got to him first? Murong Wuque shuddered, his heart feeling cold as he thought about it. If Alvin didn't try his utmost to reach villa number seven before he lost consciousness, it would have been disastrous. Firstly, the people chasing after him might get to him first and his life would be over. Even if they let him live, he would turn to a dog, suffering and doing thing
Slave seeking curse
Murong Wuque rushed to the bathroom, and set up a warm bath, pouring in different expensive herbs into the water. Alvin's clothes were quickly stripped off, giving him a thorough bath and massage. “Three broken ribs. An, you truly don't want your life anymore. How many times will you break your ribs?” The last time he had treated Alvin for broken ribs, just days after they arrived on earth. Alvin had thought that he healed himself properly, only for Murong Wuque to notice it when he fell against Alvin. If not for that little embarrassing situation, Alvin might have kept walking around with poorly aligned ribs, thinking it was perfect. By earth's standards it was okay. But for cultivators engaged in extreme exercises and hardships, it was a recipe for disaster. He dragged his fingers up Alvin’s torso, lingering around his chest area. His expressions became more grave by the second. Whatever he was seeing wasn't good. Murong Wuque hit a spot on Alvin's chest and he vo
Wrecked.
Villa number seven Murong Wuque's eyes snapped open. He had been cultivating on the Villa's little hilly peak after giving instructions to his juniors. He had instructed them on things to look into, messages to send to the Murong clan, and rumors to spread. He had also instructed them on how to reach him and days they should meet. However, in case of emergency, they could try to trigger the formation. After settling with them, he had tried to cultivate a bit. His quarrel with Alvin kept nagging at him, but he suppressed it, and continued practicing his cultivation arts. But the sharp pain he suddenly felt had him opening his eyes. Something was about to go wrong and he had a deep suspicion it had to do with the mission Alvin's organization sent him on. He stood up and quickly returned to their room. A round of evening bath followed and he changed into his white silk pajamas and robes, his hair flowing elegantly around his shoulders. Murong Wuque had intended to go to sle
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