Chapter 242: Epilogue — My Name Is Mang Xiang, an Old Widower, and Lately I

Epilogue — My name is Mang Xiang, an old widower, and lately I’ve been annoyed.

【This merely clarifies the hidden threads and logic of already-written plotlines; if you understood the earlier parts, you don’t need to read this.】

My name is Mang Xiang, and I am over ten thousand years old.

I am an old widower, and lately I’ve been annoyed.

I’m about to reach Golden Core, but I’m stuck on the Immortals’ Platform — those old bastards...

Even if they agree or disagree, it doesn’t affect my plan to attain Golden Core, yet the conservative faction of the Immortal Alliance has grown too powerful.

For all these years, Yang Zhichai lived in shadow, never seeing the light; yet even though his heart was as deep and dark as a black hole, a sliver of light still remained.

When the terrain shifts reached Nan Gong Min’s ears, the Duke of Qi immediately took it seriously and dispatched a squad of elite troops to guard the river mouth — a precaution against the Xi family’s army from Luo Ping Continent launching a sea assault, which would put Qing Cheng Continent in danger.

She deliberately looked at Qi Yue; Qi Yue, unwilling to refuse Jin Mu’s warmth, lowered her head slightly, blushing, and nodded.

Lu Qianqian’s expression turned cold as she watched Deng Rong lounging with one leg crossed over the other, looking lazy and careless.

As he spoke, Zhang Zhengfeng couldn’t help glancing at Zhou Chen and saw that Zhou Chen’s script had already fallen to the ground.

Zhuo Hua and Zhuo Kun fell silent — Big Cousin still commanded respect; when she flew into a rage, no one dared speak out of turn.

Liu Xiujin refused to let go — she still had to give Zhao Yabó half the profit; how could she split it without cash? Zhao Yabó wouldn’t agree.

Leng Ruo Yi felt strangely calm; he wasn’t worried about punishment. His mind was fixed on one question: how had Han Ming convinced Feng Cong? Such testimony would condemn Feng Cong as an accomplice — what was he thinking? What had Han Ming promised him?

Someone with such a background would never stay long in a third-rate sect — even a top-tier sect might not hold much appeal.

“Hmph, good for you,” the lead constable said smugly. “Boys, let’s drop this.”

Yet she had nearly erased her identity and now lived in a modest rental apartment, a feeling close to madness gnawing at her.

“A terrifying man!” Sun Wukong raised his evaluation of the blue-robed man again — this man’s schemes ran too deep; even before acting, he had planned everything, even including the uncontrollable Wild Dragon Crocodile.

Only now did David understand what he intended, and he let out a helpless, bitter laugh.

Liu Zhaoming waved his hand and dropped to the ground first, crawling forward in a low, combat crawl toward the eastern side of the airport.

“Physical therapy?” James blinked. In America, many Chinese-run “physical therapy” clinics were just massage parlors — nothing to do with medicine.

Li Bai’s mood remained untouched; he poured all his emotion into the song, yet his gaze toward the others was gentle and profound. The emotional momentum he had built with his singing now seemed to have reached a tipping point — it needed his next notes to slowly release.

Faced with this situation, they lacked sufficient strategic vision and boldness, and all were hesitant and fearful of loss.

The crimson embroidered shoe upper was adorned with gold thread and jade, shaped into a butterfly with outstretched wings — dazzlingly magnificent.

The terrifying explosions were unstoppable; after holding back several waves of assault, Sun Wukong and the others could no longer endure and began spitting blood.

Hearing that the Xu family still paid their monthly allowance and the Luo family paid extra wages, everyone beamed, pounding their chests and vowing to care for Shiniang well and never let Wang family people bully her.

The remaining mercenaries abandoned the dozen wind horses, already beaten to near death, and swiftly formed a battle formation, surrounding Liu Xing and his group — each mercenary’s eyes glinted with faint killing intent.