Chapter 65: The Heir Apparent

After the Dowager Madam Lou finished speaking, she worried that Wang Heng was too young to understand her “hint,” so she added, “Jiunian is such a beauty—those eyes, that skin—if she weren’t a little plump, she’d be no less attractive than our Achi!” To be truthful, the Dowager Madam was going out of her way to disparage Wang Heng, not above telling blatant lies with a straight face.

Indeed, Wang Heng was plump, but she did not look greasy or ugly in the least.

Wang Heng had a delicate bone structure and an even smaller face.

Her face was barely the size of a palm, yet it was—

He Ning laughed quietly, thinking to himself, “Your family is well-off now, of course things are good. With money, what can’t you buy?”

Hearing this, Ran Shuqing’s heart lurched as she tightened her fingers beneath her sleeves, struggling to maintain her composure. It had not been easy for her to marry into this wealthy family; everything in this household would one day belong to her and her son, and she would not permit anyone to take it from her.

At this moment, the bald man finally spotted the shooter—a strikingly handsome youth with raven-black hair.

Among the present artificers, their first reaction was not to crowd around and examine her finished work, but to stand rooted to the spot, eyes wide with astonishment.

For no particular reason, Qiao Zhaojing recalled that day’s livestream and the black-haired boy who bore such a strong resemblance to his mother.

At the same time, Hua Mingzhao felt a trace of relief—after searching the He family’s place once more, he finally discovered two letters.

It was precisely when Qingcheng arrived that Ling Fu accidentally obtained the key to a mysterious treasure chest.

Lin Wan’er was still puzzled as to why she had disguised herself as a man to slip out, only to realize she had harbored such intentions all along.

Not just the sniper and the spotter, but Lin Rao and her two companions also saw Ji Wei’s movements; at that moment, their feelings were beyond words.

Qian Chen sprinted wildly through the dense forest, something stirring restlessly within him as he took in his surroundings.

Sun Zhuo appeared at ease—he would do his best to win this match, but even if he lost, it was just a practice round. By the time of the second challenge, he would know precisely how to secure victory.

Liu’s assistant was left red-faced by this string of remarks, then abruptly slapped the prepared documents onto the table.

“I am getting old, and Uncle Li’s antique business has grown too vast for me to manage. It’s time for a talented young man like you to take my place.”

Not only Qi Zhan, but even Bo Hanchen noticed Jiang Xiyue’s constant head-scratching, finding it exceedingly strange.

Many of the soldiers looked deeply unsettled; ancient people were often superstitious, and they began to suspect that the trouble wasn’t caused by the Xiongnu at all, but rather that something else had set its sights on Cangugu City, trapping them here.

“No problem. The dermatology department at the municipal hospital is contracted out to private operators—so long as we pay, we can do as we please with their wards.”

Everyone turned to him in unison, eyes wide with astonishment and curiosity, including Fang Fang and Seagrass.

He understood that the water was nothing more than a drop in the bucket for his scars—a temporary relief at best. If time ran out, or if anything unforeseen happened, only death awaited him.

On seeing it was the commanding general, the man stifled his annoyance and reported, “The enemy descended from the sky, broke through the East Gate, and has taken the South Gate as well. General, you must flee through the North Gate at once!” Without waiting for Sun Jing’s reaction, he dashed off at once.

Moments later, Nangong Feiyu’s face and body were battered by a rainstorm of furious fists.

“You’ll do,” said the village chief, sending him and three others straight to the broken fence. Those half-awake were left at the village gate to stand with the two soldiers, awaiting Dashanmu.

Feeling Fu Xi’s gaze, Li Chengfeng turned away, glancing left and right, clearing his throat as if none of it concerned him.

As the third bolt of violet lightning crashed down, the light of merit about Old Zhu was completely spent, and more than half the strike fell directly upon his body.

Because of what the Hollow Daoist had said, everyone was left as silent as ducks with their throats squeezed—no one could utter a single word.