King of Classical Music

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Lin Zizheng sat on one side, an incessant tensity griping his heart. It turned out that the immortals really could fly. He stared at the three people in front of him, his gaze finally coming to rest on the figure clothed in white; Qin Mo. Despite the fact that Qin Mo had yet to speak a single word to him, he'd already become aware that there was something distinct about him. Although he'd only ever been taught by his mother from a small book and though he did not know much, he was still certain that he knew that that person just standing there alone, possessed great beauty. If all immortals bore this manner, he thought, then even if he had to undergo a thousand hardships, he would become an immortal.

After hearing this, Zheng Wei Qiao paced. "You. . . Did you eat something weird lately?

Qi Mu ate another piece of toast, thought a bit then said rhetorically: "Marijuana?"

". . ."

Well, he really did eat something weird.

But this thing. . .

It was an excellent bad thing to eat!

Pa! The judge slammed his hand onto the table angrily. Bitter and hateful, he said: “Lord An Yuan was walking on the right path. He did not provoke or anger you. Why did you kick him down the cliff and obstruct his fate?! A month after he would have gone to find the mysterious old man who would be able to pass on internal power to him. The turning point of his fate was soon to arrive–” The more he spoke, the more ardent he felt. Suddenly he took a deep breath and pointed at Han Changsheng's nose, spitting. “You! Speak, why did you kick Lord An Yuan off a cliff to his death!”

—— Demonic Head Han Changsheng had committed the first mistake in the ways of acting as a villain: Getting rid of the protagonist before he could become powerful.

Jǐ Xiǎo Ōu touched his ears and paws, and they were both very warm. He was already seriously injured yesterday and had spent the entire night in the wild. It was only to be expected that he was feverish.

Jǐ Xiǎo Ōu rummaged through the medicine kit to find a thermometer.

A cat’s mouth could not hold the thermometer. Previously, Jǐ Xiǎo Ōu had gauged their temperature by pushing it into the anus.

She took the thermometer and laid the leopard flat on her legs, preparing to follow through.

The thermometer only just touched its sphincter when the leopard cub probably guessed what she was going to do. She did not know where he found the strength to violently struggle in her arms. His fore paw suddenly swung down, and his blue eyes glared ferociously at her, glimmering with anger.