Chapter 287

An Feng’s grandmother lived in a neighborhood that was once considered relatively upscale, but the planning of such upscale neighborhoods back then couldn’t compare to today’s standards.

So now it looked quite ordinary.

Qi Hao called An Feng, and as soon as his car entered the compound, he was already being watched by onlookers.

The spacing between the buildings was large and arranged in a staggered pattern, allowing residents to see cars arriving at the main gate from their living room balconies.

For his first visit, Qi Hao did not

A thunderclap split the sky; Ji Fengtian’s fist crashed down from the thunderclouds, instantly forming a massive fist imprint, within which endless lightning danced, as if forged from heavenly thunder itself.

“We’ve only confirmed the victim’s identity—he’s a resident of Huayuan City, unemployed, named Wang Heng. We know nothing else!” Zhao Tiezhu shrugged, looking helpless.

They didn’t know the movements of other realms’ forces, so he wouldn’t take that risk.

This trial, as long as he’s a man, a normal man, he absolutely cannot pass.

“I’ve explained the various government bureaus on the court; now let me discuss ranks: heads of each ministry are first rank, deputies are second rank, and so on down to the lowest seventh rank. Specific grading rules still need to be discussed and formalized by all of you—this applies equally to military and civil affairs,” Xiao Mo said, raising the issue of ranks.

You’re too scared to act, yet you know how to pick your spot! You’ve just torn down the future headquarters of the Langzhong Municipal Government, Zhu Pingjin thought bitterly. Yet his face still smiled as he waited for He Youyi to continue.

Li Xiang felt warmth in his heart—true friends are like this: when trouble strikes, they step forward without being asked, doing all they can.

Just as a single drop of Phoenix blood in the Beiming Snow Mountains back then had shifted the entire tide of battle.

This was why Zhu Pingjin didn’t rest during the Zongzi Festival but instead hurried to summon his loyal northern-expansion faction members Zheng Anmin and Song Zhenzong.

Xiao Bohan said nothing, only gazed out the window. He waited for Meng Ling to ask more—knowing she wouldn’t rest until she’d clarified every issue.

“You hypocritical beast! Die!” Long Xing roared, swinging his next strike straight at the Thirteenth Prince’s face. Without hesitation, his golden staff came crashing down, golden light slicing through the sky like a curtain, instantly engulfing the Thirteenth Prince.

In the Emperor’s bedchamber in Yan Capital, Emperor Xuanwu Jiang Wuji held the secret report from Western Chu, his gaze cold.

But I’m deeply curious about these two and the bear. The sword-wielding boy was tense as he fought the Rock-Hugging Bear, while the purple-clad boy beside him scanned all directions, his face showing no sign of worry. Why could I see them so clearly? Because they were already very close.

Long Ao Jiao, who had been peacefully enjoying breakfast, saw the two arrive and immediately grabbed Ning Ye’s arm with his greasy hand.

Now, him and Zhao Qingyue walking together in the village had become routine; villagers no longer stared or whispered behind their backs as they once did.

At that moment, the valley erupted. Countless figures shot skyward, dense as locusts swarming. All of them surged toward the golden barrier.

Liu De stood on a temporary wooden platform built by the craftsmen, beside him stood Gong Sun Qi. Below, a thousand elite soldiers selected by Gong Sun Qi stood in white robes, armed with bows and spears, mounted on white warhorses. Liu De ordered his troops to raise a large banner bearing four bold characters: White Horse Loyalists.

The group left the town and walked slowly across the open fields; as they entered a refugee settlement, an atmosphere of utter despair instantly enveloped them all.

“Stop flirting—focus on the task,” another voice suddenly sounded from the shadows. Instantly, another figure appeared beside Hun Ji.