Chapter 821

Lady Danhua hesitated, then gently advised, “Lord Hebo, as the Elder of the Dragon Kings of Shenzhou, you truly ought to lead the world. But now is still a bit too early—perhaps wait another year or two.”

If you’re the boss, you must lead from the front, set the example—otherwise, why should others respect you as boss?

During the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, if a hegemon—the “Fangbo”—existed, and the Central Plains faced invasion by Rong and Di tribes, the Fangbo was obligated to be the first to raise troops and rally the feudal lords.

Zhao Gan chuckled, then suddenly twisted his right hand backward on Cao Dan’s finger, followed by a sharp “crack”—Cao Dan screamed like a slaughtered pig.

She dressed herself, then applied a light makeup. She thought this must count as formal attire.

“Then how do you know this is the Eight Formation Diagram left by Zhuge Wuhou?” Tang Yi said sharply.

“Ah, isn’t that the truth? This war came about because Chou Nuan bribed Yan Song’s son, Yan Shifan, to get released from prison and appointed as Viceroy of Xuan and Da, stationed in Datong to resist the enemy,” Yu Shilong said, troubled.

He sighed deeply, his inner turmoil rising and falling; the court’s turbulent intrigues spread out like a net.

After softly calling out, Song Wuduan sat on the sofa. Though seated in the guest position, he sat upright—not out of deliberate effort, as last time, but naturally now.

Once, a woman dressed in fiery red blocked my path, reaching out to force me to hold her hand—I laughed dismissively and shoved her aside, only to receive a slap from my father.

Jun He suddenly understood: this was truly news from Chu Tao! A faint strength began to kindle in his heart—he finally knew what he must do.

“Alright, then,” Ling Yu replied. “Tell me what to do.” He hadn’t thought much about formalities—helping the silver-masked man was no hardship. But at this moment, Ling Yu seemed to have no other choice.

But his father couldn’t hold back his rage—he vomited blood, and from then on suffered a chronic heart ailment that never healed; a few years later, he passed away.

Fei’s joy was unmistakable, but Bai Zhu’s heart remained clenched—this was the first time he’d worried about someone else.

This finally drew the attention of the outside slave, who immediately opened the door to check. They saw the greasy old man clutching his head with one hand and his groin with the other, writhing in pain on the ground.

Put yourself in their place—if Dongfang Nanbei were a wealthy heiress who’d never mentioned you in all these years, wouldn’t you have thoughts too?

Jian Yun stopped in her tracks upon hearing this, glancing down at the jade pendant in Zhang Donglin’s hand.

“You’ve suddenly started caring about the Wu Clan?” she bit her fingertip, her eyes wide as autumn waters.

The man saw the dagger embedded in Mo Han’s abdomen, his mind snapped clear—he instantly calmed, realizing the situation had spiraled out of control.

Yu Le’s thinking was clear: whether they took this valley or not didn’t matter—their sole purpose in coming here was to force the enemy into a 5v5 battle.

Zhuo Chen immediately understood at the sight of the carriage; he sighed helplessly, scooped up Mo Shihuan in his arms, and carried her into the mansion.

He had suppressed himself too long, endured too many shocks today; encountering someone familiar, he let himself go for a moment—and couldn’t pull back in time.

Zhu Li and the others all looked curious—this gossip was enormous; they desperately wanted to know why Chen Tong had said that.

Some classmates who had fallen in love during school but broken up after graduation had much to say; as they sang, they began to cry.

Originally, Li Fei had planned to have afternoon tea at a quiet Western restaurant, but Nao Nao insisted she was about to travel to Sichuan and must have Sichuan cuisine first as practice.