Chapter 457

Seeing Li Luo’s face break into a smile.

Zhang Li exhaled a sigh of relief.

Laughter is strange—it’s often a tiny change that conveys entirely different meanings; just now, Brother Luo’s smile was handsome and utterly warm.

But Zhang Li keenly sensed a faint detachment within that handsome smile.

Now, without doubt, it was a genuine laugh.

This instantly calmed her heart.

Mo Mo stared unblinking at the doorway; the bat was nearly half a person’s height, hanging upside down, its neck bite marks clearly visible—it was Na Ze, she had finally found him. Mo Mo reached out, grasping toward him, and the tears she had held back finally fell.

Over the past few years, Han Shan and Zi Yan had been utterly incompatible, because both had realized they loved Su Quan.

“You’re coming back with me, understood?” Mo Mo strained to widen her eyes in the darkness, asserting her stance.

Around him, a faint, clear aura flickered—hazy, elusive, like the slight warping of space above a flame from rising heat. After expanding outward three times, the aura returned to normal.

Wen Xin saw how well these people treated her, how warmly they acted; she felt deeply satisfied. In the past, when she worked in HR, none of these department heads had ever given her a decent look.

Why didn’t those spiders chase us, letting us flee without pursuit? That clearly contradicts the system monsters’ nature.

He had been proud of this idea, but now it was utterly abandoned.

Amid everyone’s waiting, the final wave of attacks finally began. Far away, dense armies pressed forward—monsters of every kind, flying in the sky, crawling on the ground, utterly countless.

At dawn on the 64th day, Moscow was as peaceful as ever, though war had stirred it; the Kremlin maintained its usual order and bustle.

Seeing the fifth batter from City University’s third year step up, Yang Ping and Ze Cun exchanged stunned glances, both filled with disbelief.

But she had never told Chu Yufan these words; later, until her appearance gave her hope.

“His biography is on the back of the Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card,” Hermione said coolly.

Chu Yufan merely gave her a cold glance, said nothing, and took off his coat, tossing it carelessly onto the nearby sofa.

So she still remembered his preferences—apparently, she had truly cared for him deeply. Five years had passed, yet she remembered so clearly.

Lin Jun and the Soviets had no choice but to launch a forced assault on the “Mannerheim Line”; the French clearly hadn’t anticipated this, instead preparing to send reserve forces toward the “Maginot Line.”

Only with the emergence of Shen Teng and his team from Kexin Mahua did the Chinese entertainment comedy scene reignite with new energy.

Lin Jun opened his cockpit and waved to the Chinese fighter jets; at that moment, the Chinese formation leader also waved back—they were turning back.

Over the past two years, many variety shows had emerged, and competition programs had sprung up endlessly; he hadn’t joined many, but he’d seen plenty of dirty behind-the-scenes.

“How dare you!” The cello’s deep, resonant voice rose with anxiety, frustration, and a strained, aching tenderness. Immediately, a long, pale hand reached out, roughly prying the two clinging figures apart.

All of this, though long to explain, happened in the blink of an eye. Even Chu Feng was caught off guard.

“Didn’t I say this must be kept secret? Use only reliable people! Take this money first—it’s for emergencies!” Zi Han handed the money to Lan Shuang.

Yun Yi grew solemn, seeing that each sword blossom brimmed with piercing sword qi, forming swirling petals.