Xiao Yu was brimming with confidence as he told him that no one in this Nether Realm could lay a hand on him.
Beneath the sky screen.
No one could lay a hand on him?
Some thought Xiao Yu was merely exaggerating, but the family heads who had spent years in positions of power and seen countless things did not think so.
The young man had spoken with absolute certainty.
That confidence radiated from within and could not possibly be faked. It was nothing like slapping one's own face swollen to look imposing, putting on a fierce exterior while quaking inside.
Ye Zong felt he ought to have a portrait of this young man drawn and sent to the Nether Realm so his father could investigate him properly.
But then he noticed the faint glow flickering around Nie Li's separate courtyard-the fluctuations of a Soul Force barrier.
What exactly was that little brat doing?
Inside Nie Li's courtyard.
Xiao Ning'er lay quietly on the cold stone table, her delicate body trembling slightly. Sweat had long since soaked her thin clothes. Each bead slid down her snow-white skin, gathering into a small puddle on the table.
Her fingers curled unconsciously, as though she wanted to grasp something to support her body, which had grown so weak it was almost limp. Yet all her efforts were futile. She could only let herself lie sprawled there without a trace of vitality, like a puddle of mud.
At that moment, Xiao Ning'er's cheeks were as red as ripe apples, captivatingly beautiful yet impossible to look at without feeling pity. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, as though everything before her had blurred.
Her luscious red lips were slightly parted, her breathing somewhat rapid, and a glistening thread of saliva even clung to the corner