What! The Wives in My Dreams Are Real? novel Chapter 1202

1202 /1286

Upon hearing the commotion outside, Hong Zhencheng hurried to the window—but all he saw was billowing dust that obscured everything.

“What’s happening? Has Elder Nangong gone mad, summoning the Divine Pact’s Leader to his death? And what does he mean by the Hall of Fortune?”

Hong Zhencheng’s brow furrowed, but Ye Yu remained silent. In his heart, however, everything had already become clear: Nangong Yantian intended to seize power today. Damn it—he still hadn’t escaped this day of reckoning.

Just as Hong Zhencheng reached for the door, Ye Yu grasped his arm. “Zhencheng, listen to me: don’t leave here. You have no business out there. Wait until the dust settles, then choose your side.”

“What side?” Hong Zhencheng objected. “With things so chaotic, I’m worried about my Master. His health is poor—I must go check on him.”

Ye Yu fell silent. Of course—besides Nangong Yantian and Xie Buyu, there was Dongfang Yelai, whose own secrets had surfaced today. Ugh—the Hall of Boundlessness was full of schemers, every one of them a potential thunderbolt.

Outside, the divine power fluctuations grew ever stronger—someone had already made their move. Hong Zhencheng’s anxiety mounted. “Great Ascendant, I’m truly worried about my Master. Please let me go!”

Ye Yu released him and smoothed the folds of his robe. “Be careful out there. If it’s dangerous, remember to flee. And... never mind. Just stay alert.”

He had wanted to warn Hong Zhencheng to watch out for Dongfang Yelai, but such words would fall on deaf ears. Hong Zhencheng cared too much for his Master; to doubt him now would sound like slander. Better to hope Dongfang Yelai still cared enough to protect him.

After Hong Zhencheng departed, Ye Yu wasted no time in the chamber. He intended to slip out of the Hall of Boundlessness altogether—what was decided here no longer concerned him. Concealing his figure, he moved slowly toward the outer hall.

What had once been peaceful was now half-ruined, dozens of buildings collapsed into rubble. Over a hundred gods wearing white mourning flowers besieged twenty-odd fellow disciples. By numbers and cultivation alone, the outcome seemed certain.

Among the weaker side were more than a dozen whom Ye Yu had rescued from the Graveyard Divine Pact. Seeing them wounded again, his expression remained as calm as still water. He refused to involve himself in yet another quarrel—and besides, his current strength wouldn’t permit any grandstanding. Life, whether mortal or divine, was finite; reshaping fate required power he did not yet possess.