Chapter 192: Farewell, Beloved

Zhao Dezhuz's grandmother, upon seeing Zhao Dezhu appear, was both astonished and furious, her expression deeply complex.

"What are you doing here?" the grandmother snapped.

"I came to see Congfang," Zhao Dezhu said.

"You finally remember to show up? Congfang doesn't need you," the grandmother snapped, then moved to shut the door.

"Mom, wait a moment—listen to me…" Zhao Dezhu grew anxious.

The grandmother heard him address her

Wu Fan gave Zhang Shiqin an encouraging look, nodded, and made an OK gesture; Zhang Shiqin's face instantly lit up with a smile.

Wu Hao nodded and stepped out with Shi Shaojun, leaving only Yan Bing, Li Min, and Jian Fei inside the room.

Zhang Keda nodded; seeing the calm expression of the young man before him, his own heart began to settle.

When he stepped outside, he saw the old man who had drunk with him last night and his wife discussing something—but they fell silent the moment they spotted him, turning to face him together, leaving him deeply embarrassed.

Though Han Lao was a forceful and confident man, the pressures since the apocalypse had left him gasping for air; as a regional governor, the burden on his shoulders was immense. After finally venting, he immediately composed himself and began consulting with the team leaders.

"You've got two choices: stay frozen in place, or get out and wait outside," Zhang Cuishan said calmly, slowly picking up a magazine, not even glancing at the two.

Li Anrui's transformation had left Fan Xiang sleepless for days; his face looked weary, and barely had he sat down in the morning when he felt drowsy.

Wu Fan paid no mind to the crowd watching him, for doing good deeds requires no concealment. Like Lei Feng, he performed good acts without seeking fame—yet why did everyone eventually learn of them? Because doing good is an example, a positive force, meant to show others that they too can join in.

He rolled over and crawled onto the ground, gasping heavily, utterly disheveled; Xu Mo continued breathing hard like this.

There was no firm ground nearby, so Xu Mo gritted his teeth and walked toward the center; as he stepped repeatedly into empty air, his skin and bones emitted strange sounds.

He had always been arrogant and conceited; seeing Liu Yu's demeanor, he believed a single word could scare him off.

Immediately after, the feathers of the Wind-Slicing Owl were scattered atop them, the three binding tightly together, achieving a state of balance.

Hashi refused to yield, extending his forearm and firing a black beam straight at Yin Tianchou; Yin Tianchou dodged in time, but the mountain wall behind him, struck by the black light, immediately began to corrode, forming a bottomless black hole.

He said such vulgar words with such solemn seriousness that Xia Hanyan couldn't help but look at him with new respect.

The fellow was still tough; even as Liu Yu approached again, Niu Ge felt no fear—his eyes blazed with hatred, and with his remaining leg, he kicked out with all his strength toward Liu Yu.

Qian Shouhu suddenly burst into tears again, then uncovered the sword wrapped in cloth beside him; the moment the blade emerged slightly, everyone knew it was the Crow Sword—the weapon Ling Suping never parted from.

In this expanse of stars, the patterns of the Chart of Infinite Stars wove endlessly through my mind, and even the ancestral technique left by my forefather, the God of War—The Annals of the God of War—churned violently within me.

Qingmuxuan could only sigh helplessly; blood still oozed from his chest, and streamed continuously from his nose and mouth. He felt, in truth, he didn't even need the opponent to strike—given the rate of bleeding from his current wounds, Qingmuxuan would likely not survive.

Meng Qing's offensive rhythm showed no slack; his speed was swift, and in the blink of an eye, he reached Yin Tianchou's side, delivering a sweeping slash aimed at his face.