Chapter 132: The Viceroy Comes to Greet! The Greek Scholar

She hated him so much she wanted to bite off a chunk of Zhou Shengliang’s flesh right there.

Although Township Chief Huang claimed he wouldn’t drink because he was driving the Grand Chief, he still couldn’t escape the endless social obligations.

Fang Yu wore a gray-white hooded cloak he’d spent eighty yuan—big money—buying on Taomao; in Da Zhou, the world’s factory, even an eighty-yuan item was adorned with gold thread, making him look like a usurper named Saga.

When Wang Fengyi heard, her expression darkened slightly, but Qin Xiaonie showed no concern for Wang Fengyi’s face and didn’t reprimand Songzhi at all.

“I’ve told you many times—I’m just friends with Jiang Nan. How many times do you want me to repeat this?” Gu Wenze’s voice was now clenched with rage.

Old Smith knew many in North America’s military engaged in smuggling weapons and contraband, but he never imagined missiles could be stolen by mercenaries.

She tried to pull away Fu Yanzhi’s hand holding her, but no matter how hard she tugged, it wouldn’t budge—he forcibly turned her face back, giving her no chance to escape.

He hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, spun around several times, pondered for a moment, then called Xin Wanqing again.

Fang Yu voluntarily withdrew his hand: “Strong safety awareness—good. Want to grab a drink together?” He invited casually.

Seeing twenty figures hovering in midair, He Xiaoyao’s face grew even darker.

Ning Lianmeng wanted to say more to provoke Pei Shuyi, but under these circumstances, Pei Shuyi still maintained her composure, cut off the call without listening to Ning Lianmeng’s rambling.

“Don’t misunderstand—I just want to ask… could you let me see it just once?” Meng Ze’s voice, though drunk, sounded strangely lonely, even pleading, as if lowering himself.

This Divine Lord silently thought: Since he’s a prince, this girl must be a concubine—but she lives here? That old emperor is surely a blind fool.

Su Jinghui secretly smiled but showed no expression on her face, dropped the false politeness, and quietly stepped behind Xuan Yuanche.

It was nearly evening now, dinner prep time; though the reserved private-room guests hadn’t arrived, the main hall was already full, and with kitchen preparations underway, everyone froze when they saw Su Jinghui—some nearly cut their fingers, others barely saved their dishes from burning.

All bones in his limbs and body had turned into crystalline structures of black-gold, radiant gold, and blood-gold, yet the three crystals seemed to repel each other, all bound within a faint but incredibly resilient black glow.

Shuixian immediately felt embarrassed—her outburst looked ridiculous next to Su Jinghui’s calm composure; others couldn’t help smirking behind their hands, while Xiang’er, expressionless as always, instinctively followed Su Jinghui into the room to serve.

“Master, Master, look—what a treasure! I find it very comfortable to hold,” Lan Yiyi ran to Bai Qianmei’s side, waving the jade flute in front of her.

“Brother Lan, rest assured!” Long Qianyin said, then cheerfully turned to find Lan Yiyi and Nian Pingchong.

“You know a lot about the Ji family, but you’ve never truly understood my situation. I do bear the surname Xue—but it’s from my mother’s side. If you’d ever heard of my family’s surname, you wouldn’t dare approach me so carelessly, or prattle on so long.” Xue’s aunt spoke coldly.

Lin Danya snorted, satisfied by Zhao Juechen’s desperate will to live, when suddenly she heard the ringtone from Zhao Juechen’s phone.

Li Xiang wrestled with thoughts about his father for a while, found no clarity; his parents wouldn’t be home for another while, so he might as well listen to what General Qu of the group had to say about his family.

The middle-aged man ignored him, as if he hadn’t heard, and smiled at the Seven-Colored Spirit Phoenix, casually stroking the soft feathers at its neck.

As he spoke, Ye Chen secretly formed a hand seal behind his back, condensing a blade of sword qi.

He could only marvel at how secretly the Holy Flame Sword was hidden; had the Thirty-Seventh Patriarch of the Ming Jiao not been a genius of heavenly talent, this artifact might have remained buried for countless more years.

The Fu family, once so glorious today, ended up in such a dismal finale—truly heartbreaking.

A Ci didn’t bother with formalities, sat down, picked up a custard tart, took a bite—it was delicious, but not the best she’d ever had; she thought Shirley’s custard tarts were far better.

Chen Mo had always hoped Li Xiang would shoulder the burden of the scenic area, believing she must endure all kinds of setbacks; his previous harsh demands on her work weren’t enough—all she’d endured would become her wealth.

Zhenzi was handing Frith a cup of freshly extracted pure water when a lazy voice echoed from the empty room.

Then, the people sent by Zhu Shiming led Chen Ran, Xu Kai, and Zhang Xiangdong to the camp’s mess hall.

This department had even hung a banner: “Congratulations to Our Department: 24 Teams in the International University Physics Competition Won 1 Gold, 3 Silver, and 8 Bronze Medals.”

From the initial three questions, to the second round’s four, to today’s five, Wu Xiping had repeatedly increased the number of questions.

Tian Hu took back the chopsticks Yun Li returned, blushed, and began eating greedily; even after wolfing it down, he still felt reluctant to let go.

The Heavenly Strategy General also clearly understood the Emperor’s thoughts; to avoid suspicion and to preserve his family’s honor, status, and wealth, he too chose to wander the world, often sailing far overseas.

Soon, Wang Zhan’s spiritual force had recovered five or six tenths; sensing the timing was right, he began sketching the final pattern.

Zi Xuan didn’t press further about Chu Haoran’s identity—after all, she was currently under someone else’s roof, lacking the strength to force him to reveal himself.