Volume One, Chapter 57: Concessions?

Tong Ruoyun and Lin Kuan were both speechless; from the way they were being treated, it felt as if they were caring for a three-year-old. Zhuge Yinglong, looking utterly at a loss, muttered, “If we don’t walk, do you expect us to fly?” Not to mention they lacked any means of transportation—even if they had some, most wouldn’t work here anyway.

Ye Zhentian couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. When he opened his eyes again, he realized it was Yun Manman who had entered. For Gai Shiying’s tribute, Xie Village felt immensely honored, so they had already forgotten his earlier rudeness.

Not long after, a tall, upright young man ascended the restaurant and strode briskly toward Li Changsheng and the others. Su Qianchen still hadn’t quite grasped why Hei Biao had suddenly disgusted everyone by claiming she wanted to separate the enchantress from Tang Lie.

“Oh, by the way, where’s my junior?” Li Zimu asked, knowing that Zhuge Yinglong had gone ahead to find Zhuge Zheng, but unaware of his whereabouts.

Originally, this social media account’s post wouldn’t have drawn much attention, but Mu Ran, upon seeing it, made a point to share it, hit the like button, and even commented, “Thank you for understanding.” This drew everyone’s eyes to the post.

Xiao Yi, resigned, logged in to his account. He didn’t delete the message Duo Duo had posted on his behalf; instead, he wrote a new one.

Behind them, the rather slow-witted merman warriors began to speculate about the major announcement the White Merman might make that night.

Before leaving, Ye Meng had especially ordered a garment to be made—pure white, spotless as new snow.

The place the two of them lived in was rented, but the lease still had a full year left. It was close to their workplace and conveniently located near the subway, so they felt no need to buy a house.

Madam Chen was having none of it. The look she gave Lychee was as if she were staring at her father’s murderer. But, in front of Xie Yuanmao, she quickly hatched a plan, desperately trying to signal Lychee to frame Mrs. Song instead. Yet Lychee was so terrified she could only beg and weep.

“You couldn’t have said it better.” Before the two could move, a cold, sinister voice sounded from behind. Startled, Gao Jun and his companion quickly turned their heads.

People feel hurt for two reasons: either they care too much about others, or others don’t care about them. The deepest sorrow is caring for someone who never cared for you.

The man with the sharp, monkey-like face looked uneasy. Though he didn’t recognize the toxic herbs among the pile, he knew for certain these weren’t any so-called spiritual medicines. If something were to go wrong after ingesting them, they’d be in real trouble.

The sleeping quarters were unlit, shrouded in darkness. Only a sliver of pale moonlight filtered through the gaps in the window lattice, casting a frosty whiteness on the floor below.

“Stay put, damn you!” Mo Xiaosheng knew missing this chance would be disastrous. He couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer.

They had dared to cover up this incident partly because it was so severe—they feared an immediate report would cost them their jobs. Additionally, they’d hinted obscurely to Jia Lianqing that the accident was grave, hoping for his guidance.

“Yanni, take a deep breath—deep breath, that’s right, just breathe.” Chai Hua was coaching Yanni on how to calm herself.

Yi looked into her wide eyes. “What? You don’t believe me?” With that, Yi kicked at the ground, sending dust flying. A hole appeared before their eyes.

He shook his head, quietly opened the balcony window, and slipped silently into the villa.

“What on earth do you have to be upset about? I’ve been hunted to the ends of the earth by Schroeder’s men and never once said I was sad.” Li Muye roughly grabbed her delicate, porcelain-like foot and scratched her sole mercilessly.

The deaths of Shen Kuo and Shen Qian were like stones sinking into the sea—no word ever returned. Of course, there were still a handful like Shen Qian, comrades who remembered their fallen friends and sought vengeance. Yet, compared to the number who fought in the war between mortals and immortals, these few were pitifully scarce.

The front courtyard of the magistrate’s office was bustling with life. Dressed in a brilliant red robe, Zhang Ruming sat upright on the makeshift dais, greeting people as they passed. Duan Lang did not come over at once; he sent back De Long’s wedding gifts and went directly to the rear courtyard and his new bridal chamber.

Emperor Yuning’s expression shifted subtly, and he secretly signaled the eunuch presiding over the arena. The emperor did not intervene—he wanted to see how many moves Duan Lang could take empty-handed.

Li Muye’s thoughts flashed. Suddenly, he flung open the door, grabbed Bai Peng’s wrist, twisted it to snatch away the dagger, and dragged the man by his hair into the private room.

The biting northern wind did not last long. The sea of clouds closed in again, concealing the world below. Yi sighed softly; it seemed they would not reach the north bank of the Lower River tonight—another night’s wait was inevitable.

By the late 1990s, Hughes’ aerospace and defense businesses had merged into Thunderbolt, which also secured half the control over the Hughes Laboratory. At the turn of the century, Boeing acquired Hughes Aerospace and Communications, and together with Boeing, General Electric, and Thunderbolt, divided the Hughes Laboratory among themselves.

Huo Ziyin couldn’t tell what kind of transformation this was, nor did it matter. On the Martial Continent, no flame could surpass the Dragon’s Breath, and those that could compare were as rare as phoenix feathers.

“So, you already know who I am? That’s right, I am indeed the inheritor of the Supreme Star God. What are your intentions, senior?” Xue Hao narrowed his eyes, his expression growing tense.

“I was just asking—don’t look at me like that. If I really meant you harm, you wouldn’t still be alive.” Ye Yu smiled faintly, and he meant what he said. If he’d truly wanted them dead, with the water monster and then the fireflies, they’d have had no chance.

For this Vermillion Bird Academy competition, winning a prize no longer mattered. Fame and fortune were fleeting; a brother’s life was all that counted.

Ye Yu had finally reached the Dao realm, breaking a law that had stood for tens of thousands of years, and had joined the ranks of the continent’s most elite masters.

So the words “Old Su” had faded from her mind long ago. Yet now, recalling them suddenly, she felt a faint ache in her chest. Even so, this pain could not break her.

Lu Fengye raised an eyebrow at her, his gaze so deep that Xia Ran grew increasingly uneasy. But determined to show her composure, she matched his eyes bravely, until his next words shattered her calm entirely.

His face twisted in pain. “Please, let go, you’re about to take a chunk out of me! I’m bleeding!” Zhou Bingran clutched his arm with his other hand, too scared to fight back, only able to beg, teary-eyed.