Chapter 79: The Eggs Haven

By the time Qi Hao finished signing all the calendars, his wrist had begun to ache.

Fortunately, he hadn’t held a fan meeting for five hundred people, or he’d have signed himself to death.

Qi Hao had a simpler way to sign, but it felt a bit dismissive toward fans, so he’d never used it.

Thanks to his upbringing in a teacher’s family, his calligraphy was quite good.

In truth, fans could leave right after getting their signatures—anyone who wanted to go was free to go.

First, they were getting free medical consultations; kicking them out outright would invite gossip. Second, if someone came just to provoke, they’d be waiting for you to lash out—no sense walking into a trap they’d dug.

Ding Liu and Yue Ru fell silent; they knew every second of hesitation added danger. But was it safer inside? Would leaving guarantee safety?

Before the finals, Chen Feng met Master De Yun, who appeared dusty and weary at the entrance of the Culinary God Residence.

Nangong Li said nothing; her original goal had been to secure the North Camp’s alliance, and she hadn’t expected such an easy victory—what had once required persuasion now came effortlessly.

It wasn’t because he disliked seeing her rush about for others—those people were likely lifelong comrades, and he wasn’t that petty. But this journey would be dangerous; otherwise, the other side wouldn’t have sent word, and she wouldn’t have insisted on going herself.

After hanging up his phone, Chen Feng looked around the beach and spotted a familiar face: Shangu Yi.

“If I say I’ll treat you with courtesy, will His Highness believe me?” she sniffed, gazing at Mu Qingying before finally sneering.

Several days passed, and once his strength slightly returned, he sat in the courtyard, supported by the old man.

“That’s pure nonsense—if Ah Xiu couldn’t have children, whose are the kids next door?” Huang Dongna couldn’t help retorting.

Upon hearing her words, the twin brothers were the most excited; they rushed forward, each hugging Prince Shan’s leg, nuzzling him with reluctance.

Ling Chenyuan’s physical transformation had reached its final stage; his departure carried an uncertain return, and delay might bring disaster—if he died because of it, the cost would be unbearable.

Chen Zui slumped lazily in his chair, legs propped on the desk, still sprawled out like a Beijing couch potato. He understood Qiu Xue’s behavior: the clothes were two sets, sent by Ji Siyu—for him and Chen Xudong. More accurately, he’d benefited from Chen Xudong’s share.

“That’s easy—Ximen Qing is like an old turtle. Call it ‘The Turtle Parade’!” Huan Ge laughed.

“What brilliant plan do you have, my lord?” The newly appointed Prince of Wei, Wei Zeng, clutched at this last straw like a drowning man, stopping his tears to ask urgently.

Seeing the girl’s gloomy expression, Xie Ziyu was delighted—he didn’t know Guan Guan’s thoughts, nor what caused her sadness.

In the darkness, not far from the courtyard, two pairs of gleaming eyes in a large tree observed the scene inside.

Everyone shook their heads and sighed; everyone knew Niu Er’s thuggish ways. Now that Yang Zhi had provoked him, all they could do was feel indignant on Yang Zhi’s behalf and mutter that he was just unlucky.

Indeed, the Qin Army first clashed fiercely with the Xiongnu cavalry, terrifying them into thinking the Qin meant to fight to the death. But the Qin only sought to drive off the Xiongnu’s eastern reconnaissance riders.

Wen Fangxia shook her head. “I don’t hurt anymore—the pain passed after that one spell.” Her voice was weak.

“I thought the one who cast a love spell on me would be some kind of monster—turns out it’s someone from our own company,” Jin Yuli spoke slowly.

“Uh, hehe.” He Qingfan smiled apologetically at Li Yuli and He Ranran, his expression earnest. But Li Yuli and He Ranran weren’t easily fooled—they both turned their heads away from He Qingfan, casting him looks of contempt.