Chapter 139: Counting Even a Little Less as a Loss

Tokyo Dome finally awaited an unprecedented event in history.

From morning on, a continuous stream of people surged toward Bunkyo Ward, gathering into a river around the Dome; in the aerial shots from NHK Television, the crowd resembled ants on a pilgrimage, clogging every entrance.

Fang Xinghe was having his makeup finalized backstage and could still faintly hear the roaring outside. Wang Chali walked into the lounge, sweat soaking his head, muttering constantly: "Crazy, crazy..."

The moment he heard Chen Jun say this, the boss's eyes instantly lit up, flashing with countless excitements.

Lin Pingzhi looked with craving at the two peaks that appeared as ridges from afar and as ridges from the side, suppressing the evil thoughts in his heart.

However, this answer was beyond her expectation; she thought Xiao Feng would roll his eyes at her as usual and then refuse, but she never expected him to refuse so decisively this time.

Although many games were downloaded on the phone, the only one Qian Ge truly liked to play, or rather, had played a few times, was this one: Honor of Kings.

After all, Su Ze's body strength was at least that of a Glazed Saint Body, so the healing power within it was naturally extremely powerful.

Seeing Yun Anbang hesitate for a long time without producing any result, Zhu Lan immediately took charge.

But when Lin Pingzhi drew his sword, the Canglang Sword happened to appear right on the blade of the Flute Sword.

Xiao Feng's tone was very cold; such a person was not worth his sympathy or pity, and letting him go would only leave a cancer.

Besides, even if such a hexagonal crystal could truly absorb energy from the outside, Su Ze might not use it as a weapon anyway.

Qiu Zhuodong was driving; Liang Xiaohui's clever and witty answer almost made him laugh. He forced himself to hold back the laughter, continued driving, slowed the car down a bit, and let this conversation unfold thoroughly.

That evening, while drinking, the Prince of Dingbei spoke very excitedly about his experiences fighting on the battlefield in his youth; when he got excited, he would even start dancing with that sword right there.

Seeing that the two had been sitting under the pavilion for quite some time, Lin Chuxia got up, thinking of returning, and Shen Mingle naturally followed behind her.

Throughout the entire process, the onlookers dared not breathe a sound, only watching Qin Huan's actions continue endlessly; the silk cloth wrapped around his eyes was peeled off layer by layer, falling to the ground, and everyone could not help but stare with wide eyes.

Qingxin Ju was already remote; after everyone thought she was dead, it was considered abandoned and became a true Cold Palace. The grass on the walls of Qingxin Ju grew tall enough to reach a person's height; Li Yuanhao looked at this scene, and his heart ached somewhat.

Speaking of this, Xuan Che finally seemed to relax. He did not know whether it was because he learned of Ding Jiuxi's marriage proposal and was happy that it ended in a stalemate where neither side could obtain Ding Jiuxi, or whether he was truly just happy because the matter had simply faded away.

After seeing Mu Susu off, the two went to class; they could not let this matter delay the students' lessons.

Her face was sallow, she said not a word, her whole body was snow-white, and her eyes carried a ruthless ferocity. She fastened Feng Shang at her waist; she wore military attire underneath and donned mourning hemp on the outside.

Chu Xi tapped his fingers on the table; Zhuangzi was almost born for the special forces, and if he were forced to change careers, he definitely could not bear it.

After returning from the palace banquet, Li Yuanhao's mind was full of her image; without a second thought, he went straight to her palace. Who knew that there was no trace of her in the palace? Li Yuanhao, worried she might have met with trouble, dispatched guards and palace servants to search for her. The palace servants and guards had already returned, yet they still had not seen her figure.

Tong Jing nodded. "I feel I really am not suited for Beijing..." She lowered her eyelids and said softly.

Just then, Tong Jing's half-face was swollen and red; from one nostril, bright red blood slowly flowed out.

Tong Jing quickly covered her mouth with both hands, pulled out a chair, opened the door, and ran straight for the toilet. She had experienced this nausea once before; she remembered that during her first pregnancy, the reaction was almost exactly like this.