Chapter Thirty-Eight: Her?!

It’s her!

Lou Dalang was absolutely certain.

This face was too familiar to him. First, he saw it every day in the copper mirror. Second, there was a portrait in his father’s private study. His birth mother, the woman who was said to have “disappeared” when he was barely a month old. She had no surname, no name, only the pet name bestowed upon her during her favored days: Jiaojiao.

“Jiaojiao,” in many…

“Upstairs? Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on them both, openly and secretly? If they’re upstairs and you’re downstairs, how are you watching them?” Manager Fu asked.

This was explosive news, shaking the various regions of the divine realm, causing many powers hostile to Xiang Hao to grow uneasy.

Now, being asked to help with chores, to feed some chicken or other, made Jiang Yu even more dissatisfied.

The moment they heard that name, their first reaction was to recall the “laughingstock” of the Valley of Myriad Beasts.

After so many confrontations with Cao Cao, Jian Shuo had come to understand him well, even grasping a bit of his temperament.

“You dare cause trouble in White Emperor City, butcher? You’re courting your own death.” A fire leopard sneered, only to be killed by Xiang Hao’s slap from a great distance.

As Zhang Yan caught another thrust from Xiahou Yuan’s spear, his face flushed, blood oozing from his tightly clenched teeth, he heard a shout at his ear. His adoptive father, leading a troop of cavalry, charged at the Han cavalry commanders before them.

Fang Yi met the challenge, capturing everyone’s attention—even the whole world knew of it. After all, the name “Dragon Abandoner” had once resounded globally; now it stirred even greater shock.

When the azure energy shield of the City of the Stars fell, what appeared to those underground royal humanoids and the lord of the Ancient City of Taibei was not a sphere.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yu opened his mouth, unable to refute the words of the divine ancestor of the god race.

Secretly pleased, he immediately decided to proceed with the third—and most crucial—step to revive Liu Ziyun: administering three seeds of the five-thousand-year-old Tianshan snow lotus.

With a leap, the evil lord Baston lunged straight ahead, intent on crushing his enemy. As a lord of his generation, he had never been so desperate.

But it was already too late; the old man had successfully traced the clues and entered the heart of the underground palace.

The ancient jade trembled, emitting a deafening howl, like a terrifying ocean roaring and shaking the ten directions of heaven and earth.

As expected, less than half a minute later, the steward led Lin Pei from the entrance into the reception hall.

Grasping this, the clever minds of Wall Street immediately began to reverse their strategies. At first, it was scattered trades; soon, the volume increased, and finally, it became a trend as they shorted Blue Star Network’s futures en masse.

Princess Liu walked in from the courtyard, her scent slowly drifting in. Yin Dayin hesitated for a long time before recognizing her as King Liu.

Upon reaching the north gate, Zhang Tianyang turned into a hotel. When he emerged, he had become an old man in a long robe, beard white and mottled.

Duanmu Wuji said nothing, suddenly stripping off his armor to reveal a golden dragon robe. He placed a dragon crown from his bosom onto his head, adjusted his disguise, and stood with a regal air, as if presiding over the world.

Bing Yi ran forward, but their movement was not human running; it was violent, their figures barely visible to the eye.

“Yi’er, stop, don’t hurt Wan’er!” Ling Xue’s face was pale as paper. She stepped forward and shielded Nangong Sheng behind her.