Chapter 76: Rescue the Market! Rescue the Market! (Requesting First Subscription)

The date was September 19, 2008.

This day was etched in Fang Qingye’s memory.

It was 1:50 p.m. on September 18; the Shanghai Composite Index stood at 1,802 points, having plunged 71% since its peak of 6,124 on October 16, 2007, with no sign of reversal.

The market was already filled with wails of despair.

Will the market rally tomorrow?

Who could have guessed that?

There were already signs.

Market rescue call

The old dwarf leapt out of the circle with a startled “Huh?” But Ling Yu knew he could not harm the old dwarf even slightly, much less defeat him—if the old dwarf truly launched an attack, even if Ling Yu grew three heads and six arms, he would still be outmatched.

Hearing Li Yan’s comforting words, Lin Na could no longer hold back her emotions; she threw herself into his arms and burst into loud sobs.

Everyone withdrew. Ji Qing’s palm rested on Meng Zhu’s hand, cold as ice; blue veins stood out clearly on the back of his hand as he stared fixedly at Meng Zhu.

Among these masked bandits, three were Sword Emperors, seventeen were Sword Lords; if measured purely by the number of Sword Emperors and Sword Lords, they indeed outnumbered the main force.

Xiao Yan finally realized that Meng Xin did not hate humans—she cared for them, but she had chosen the wrong way. To avoid conflict, she had fled, which explained why she was so despondent.

After speaking, Madame Qiao turned and glided up the corridor like a ghost, leaving behind only a thin, resolute back.

Ling Yu did not notice that one of the men pretended to tie his shoelaces and, while he was distracted, slipped behind a large tree.

She leaned helplessly against the pillar, eyes closed, overwhelmed by noise, but she had eaten nothing all day—her stomach was hollow with hunger.

In the evening, Hui Sao brought her an evening gown and a pair of leather shoes, saying they had been sent by Ruan Jingyuan on Simu Xiao’s orders.

Zhao Gan smiled knowingly. If there was only one bodyguard, he must be exceptionally skilled—but to Zhao Gan, he was utterly useless.

Liu Qingxia, in a flowing emerald gown, shed her usual calm serenity; her face darkened with anger, and her killing intent had already risen.

The more Sun Wu looked, the more stunned he became. This place was unlike the outside world—it was self-contained. Aside from its heavier malevolent energy, it was otherwise indistinguishable from the outside.

Although this method was less efficient than killing him outright, it was undoubtedly draining the power of his “Philosopher’s Stone.” If continued, it would surely kill Sloth, Slors.

A noble imperial prince reduced to being scolded by a jailer—though not unheard of in history—still brought deep shame and sorrow.

Chao Tian shook his head: “There was no instruction on how to view or place it, but it mentioned that if external force damaged it, the soul within would scatter into nothingness.” That was why he had sighed in relief upon seeing the soul-relic stone still intact.

Zhu Ge Xuan stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve, while Bai Yechen closed his eyes and flung the umbrella in his right hand away.

Yu Ziqing smiled and tapped Feng’er on the head: “You forgot—what is it that everyone on Tianchen Continent seeks? As long as they have weaknesses, as long as they desire something, they will inevitably submit.”

The Eight-Tentacled Monstrosity, second only to the few Beast Lords among the monsters, spoke with undeniable weight.

Everyone froze. They had never expected such an outcome—this queue-jumping incident ended this way.

For the demon race, the Fushen Fruit was merely an ordinary spiritual fruit—pleasant to taste, but otherwise useless.

Ling Dian smiled faintly, slowly closed his eyes, and the Gauss sniper rifle slipped gently from his grasp.

Singing praises, passing inspections, hanging up big slogans—none of it compares to actually doing something real; if you truly do something for the common people, they will remember it in their hearts.