The delicate yet wicked female is addicted to collecting stamps, and her many beastly husbands vie f

Chapter 65 Snow Leopard Beast Husband, Qinglan

"A beast?!"

As soon as Mo Yan finished speaking, Fu Ying's eyes widened suddenly, and her eyelashes trembled rapidly.

The cave suddenly fell silent.

Teng paused slightly, then turned to look at Fuying. A glint of light flickered in his dark green vertical pupils as he stared intently at every subtle change in Fuying's expression.

Mo Yan also turned his head and looked thoughtfully at Fu Ying, whose eyes had suddenly lit up.

He knew Fu Ying's identity, but he couldn't understand why Fu Ying, who had always been ruthless and had done all sorts of evil to these beastmen, would suddenly become interested in them again.
First came the pale moon, then the teng, and then what? Why?
Mo Yan stared intently at Fu Ying with his scarlet eyes and said slowly, "Yes, outside the tribe, an old acquaintance of Teng has come. Like him, he is also Fu Ying's beast husband."

Upon hearing this, Fuying put down her bowl and chopsticks and ran out of the cave.

Another mission objective has been delivered to our doorstep.

Teng looked at Fuying, who rushed out of the cave without hesitation, with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Mo Yan glanced at him, gave a sneer, but said nothing and followed him out.

Along the way, Fu Ying saw many male orcs who had recovered after taking the antidote for the viper's saliva.

She didn't have time to look around and ran to the entrance of the tribe.

Beneath the ancient tree at the entrance to the village, a tall, slender figure leaned lazily against the trunk.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on his flaxen hair. He toyed with a withered leaf between his fingers, and slightly raised his eyes when he heard footsteps.

Fu Ying stared blankly into his empty eyes, momentarily stunned.

Those eyes were like two pitch-black holes, with hideous scars remaining at the edges, as if they had been torn apart by a human.

His eyes were gouged out.

As for who did it, we can only think of "Fuying" as the culprit.

Fuying also recognized the male.

Qinglan, a snow leopard beastman, is also one of the beastmen of "Fuying".

Hearing the sound, Qinglan tilted her head and looked in her direction: "Not Teng, a female?"

His voice was ethereal and melodious, and when he tilted his head, the bone ornaments in his hair jingled with the movement.

Putting aside her eyes, Qinglan is also beautiful; it's a very clean kind of beauty.

His facial features are exquisite, with prominent brow bones and a cool, languid expression. A casual glance gives one the feeling of a white moonlight male god.

Fu Ying stared at Qing Lan for a moment, cursing inwardly: That brat of an original owner, eating so well and still being picky! All she does is study "The Villain's Cultivation Guide," doing whatever it takes to court death!
Perhaps because she had been staring for too long, Qinglan lowered her head again, her ethereal voice tinged with indifference: "Did I scare you?"

Fu Ying snapped out of her daze and lowered her voice: "No, Teng will be here soon."

Hearing her mention Teng, Qinglan couldn't help but glance at her: "Are you very familiar with Teng?"

Just as Fu Ying was about to speak, Teng's voice came: "Qinglan? What brings you here?"

Qinglan's incomplete eyelashes trembled slightly, and her empty eye sockets turned toward the source of the sound.

Teng walked to Fuying's side, his dark green vertical pupils flashing slightly. He raised his voice slightly at the end and tugged a strand of Fuying's loose hair with his fingertip: "Huahua, why did you run so fast?"

Mo Yan stood to the side, arms crossed, her well-defined fingers tapping lightly on her arms.

A playful smile played on his lips, his scarlet beastly eyes darting back and forth between the three of them.

He also wanted to know why Fu Ying ran so fast. Her beast husbands were all crippled and unable to transform into beasts. Was she going to great lengths to heal them in order to atone for her sins to the Beast God?

At this moment, Qinglan's body suddenly stiffened, his eyes trembled violently, and he walked towards Teng following the scent. Then, a look of surprise appeared on his usually cold face: "You're alright?"

The aura of the six-star patterned beastman, imbued with the power of thunder, was impossible to ignore. Teng clearly didn't want to dwell on this topic, giving a soft "hmm" before asking instead, "You suddenly came to the Cangshan tribe to inquire about Fuying?"

The air seemed to freeze for a moment because of the name.

Qinglan shook her head: "After the Cangshan tribe destroyed the Oasis tribe, I returned to my tribe. Their epidemic was getting worse and worse. I didn't have time to waste on Fuying."

As she spoke, Qinglan's empty eye sockets turned toward the direction of the oasis tribe.

He slowly raised his arm, revealing a decaying totem pattern on the back of his fair hand.

Fu Ying frowned slightly: "What is this?"

Before Qinglan could speak, Moyan took the initiative.

He frowned slightly, took a half-step back imperceptibly, and said to Fu Ying in a deep voice, "I advise you to stay away from him. The plague is a terrible curse that can destroy a tribe. Once you are infected, there is no cure!"

Upon hearing Mo Yan's words, Qinglan nodded as if in agreement.

“Tribal totem, my tribe is declining due to the plague, and the power of the totem is also backfiring on my body.” Qinglan’s voice was still ethereal, and her empty eyes looked towards Fuying as if she were staring back at her.

Teng looked at Qinglan before him, a hint of obscurity flashing in his dark green eyes.

As Mo Yan said, he and Qing Lan had shared the same plight.

The difference is that he now has Hua Hua, the beast crystal is back in his heart, and his strength has been fully restored.

"You've come to me for help?" Teng asked in a hoarse voice, his facial features becoming increasingly sharp.

Qing tilted his head slightly, his arm hanging limply at his side, the rotting totem deep in his flesh shimmering with a dark light.

He nodded slightly: "Could you please ask the shaman of the Cangshan tribe to come back to the tribe with me?"

Upon hearing this, a cold glint flashed in Mo Yan's eyes, and a mocking sneer curled at the corner of his lips: "Your tribe is beyond saving. Even Wu Fusheng, the shaman of the Oasis tribe who is skilled in healing, cannot cure it."

Then, he narrowed his vertical pupils, his venomous fangs looming in the shadows: "Moreover, your tribe is cursed with a plague, and you're sending our Cangshan tribe's shaman to go? Are you trying to drag him down with you?"

Teng frowned, looking at Qinglan's empty eyes. He paused slightly, then let out a barely audible sigh: "Qinglan, I can't help you. Moyan's words may be harsh, but they are the truth."

"As we all know, there is no cure for epidemics..."

“It’s not treatment,” Qinglan suddenly interrupted Teng.

He raised his hand, his decaying hand gently stroking the bone knife at his waist: "It's for a sacrifice."

“The tribe’s shaman is dead, and we have no one to preside over the rituals, so we cannot worship the beast god.”

"We are willing to offer our bodies as a sacrifice to the flesh and blood of the entire tribe, and pray that the Beast God will show his power and punish the evil female who brought the plague."

As soon as the words fell, there was silence all around.

Mo Yan glanced at Qing Lan silently, then looked away and focused his gaze on Fu Ying.

She stood beside Teng, motionless, lost in thought.

"Are you crazy?!" Teng's pupils contracted sharply as he stared at Qinglan in disbelief.

Qinglan tilted her head, then suddenly chuckled. Her smile was pure on her cool and clean face, but her black eyes were like an abyss, chillingly cold: "Mad? I was already crazy when I met Fuying."

After saying that, he added softly, "Aren't you the same?"

Qinglan gazed quietly in Teng's direction. Her tall figure appeared particularly slender in the wind, and the bone ornaments adorning her hair trembled gently in the breeze, colliding with each other to produce a crisp, melodious sound.

“Teng, I have no other choice.”

Would you be willing to help me?

(End of this chapter)