Chapter 91

“Good.” The other party replied, and Yan Xiyue immediately hung up the phone and walked inside.

After all, the head of a prestigious family like Mo Lianghong carried immense authority when he barked orders.

But Wei Xiao—he wore T-shirts all summer, hoodies and jackets all autumn; he rarely wore shirts, finding buttons too much trouble, and only wore them for formal occasions.

She was no great figure; fifteen minutes was enough for her to grasp all the stakes. She couldn’t think further—the water had boiled scalding hot, and now she was pinned to the chopping block, forced to instinctively choose what she believed right; she was no different from Wen Mengbing.

Feng Lu had always been short on money back in school, and as the club’s liaison, she’d gone out often to secure sponsorships; later, she’d also raised funds for her research—her powers of persuasion were truly impressive.

At the edge of the sundial, Ming Yao hadn’t finished gloating when, in the distance, Wu Jin whispered something to Raphael, and Raphael—just moments ago showing signs of betrayal—once again aligned with Wu Jin.

“Do I have to go too?” Leng Jun asked curiously, unsure what they planned, but still spoke up—he wasn’t a company partner, just a signed newcomer, so he needed to ask.

The young man casually mentioned it was borrowed from next door, but Wu Jin could make out faint bruises on the big shot’s body in the dim light—the clothes were likely stolen, or at least forcibly taken.

Yin Xiaoru had just applied a face mask when the dorm door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall.

Thus, despite countless questions burning inside them, they could only ask about trivial matters—both knew this well.

In an ancient, majestic bronze hall steeped in the marks of time, a white-robed figure slowly materialized at its center.

Ba Gu Cang held a long whip, Ba Gu Hai held a spear, Ba Gu Ming held a curved blade, and Ba Gu Mu held a precious sword.

Heilian Yi couldn’t break free, so she let him hold her—and to her disbelief, she found herself craving his scent, no longer rejecting or disliking his affectionate gestures. Was it because he was injured? She could only deceive herself this way.

Murong Jiu could no longer sit still; she rose to go check, her hand touching the coffin lid, then lowered it again.

These two families had fought the natives for years, driving them all the way north to the barren plains; they possessed no small number of specialized artifacts or talismans—like the Tranquil Barbarian Disc used by Jin Guang Shiren against Lin Shan.

Lu Nianchou raised his staff and stepped forward, activating the Jade Belt Technique and lightness skills, shooting forward in an instant to stand before Dai Changgong.

Patiently and calmly, he selected the piece he favored, his gaze falling once more upon Liu Qi.

Xiaoluo felt as if trapped in a net, with more nets closing in from all sides, impossible to escape.

Helian Yi and Shen Liuxiang received word that these men would depart at dawn the next day, so they waited calmly for the moment they’d see daylight again.

Many secretly wondered—if the former Eagle Cult had truly gone all out against them, could they have resisted?

“Lu Yilin had already been briefed before I even arrived, so it’s not an issue at all.” Xia Feifei gave a “yeah” gesture.

Given the age gap between General Catino and the idiot colonel was at least thirty years, their relationship could only have two possible explanations.

Yang Meng was simmering porridge in the rice cooker and boiling water for two eggs; when she returned, Xia Fanxing was already asleep on the sofa.

Cen Han and Lin Fei were both stunned, but time was short—there was no room to persuade him; anyone could see how vital Ai Gu was to Ni Yannan.

“But if you want to eat something delicious, I can recommend some places.” Bai Lingjing blinked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Ai Gu’s forehead twitched—Ni Yannan truly had an uncanny ability: the power to kill any conversation stone-dead.

Lu Yang ignored him, turned, and transformed into a phoenix, soaring into the sky; meanwhile, the Blood Wolf Guard surged forward and tore Alfons to shreds.

If Hemeng could rise to high rank, Lu Yang could exploit the tension between Tom and Christina to force Hemeng to drive out the guild’s senior commanders—then, when they were under his control, it would spare him many problems when attacking the Central Mountain Province.

When a boss faces ten resumes of equally capable candidates, will he choose the one whose name he’s heard before and whose face looks familiar—or one he’s never seen and knows nothing about?

Though she deliberately lowered her voice, in such silence, anyone nearby who cared to listen could still hear her clearly.

“I’m not running. You two go—I’m chatting with my best friend.” Ha Qing smiled faintly.

Qiao Zhi couldn’t help laughing—these words and actions were exactly like Uncle Lin’s style; rare, yes, but not necessarily a bad thing.

The lantern wall onstage was the same as always: one hundred and eight lamps total, five lower rows each with ten lanterns arranged in sequence; above, the lanterns grew fewer. Horizontally, the wall spanned ten lanterns wide; vertically, the same.

The number of Wei’s Tiger Guards under Shi Huan was plummeting; though the Chu army’s central banner was now within reach, they could no longer launch an effective charge. Some Wei Tiger Guards, having slipped into groups of ten or even dozens of Chu soldiers, tried to shed their armor to avoid suspicion—only to be hacked to pieces by furious Chu troops.

He held champagne, calm and composed, clearly heading home for vacation. “Aren’t you hot?” Ji Luohan asked suddenly, eyes still on the newspaper.

The nurse said she’d slept for a full day and night; apart from her heartbeat, all signs were normal—she simply wouldn’t wake.

He was never good at thinking—if his military strategist and advisor were here, it’d be better. The Emperor sighed, glancing at the few remaining servants around him.

Since the boss bore primary responsibility, the punishment for Ji Ling and Han Song—who held only secondary blame—was naturally light: they lost their annual salary and were ordered to reflect in seclusion for half a month.

She smiled. “Sixth brother, you’re the one scaring me—I’ve never been afraid of such things. I just feel your nephew’s had it hard, and I’m a little… a little sorry for him.” With Xiao Junmu, she couldn’t speak as freely as with Xiao Junyang—her words carried caution, half-truths veiled in half-lies.