Chapter 217: The Shame of Shipbuilding?

Tang Wen slept a good, peaceful sleep, but everyone else in the world was red-eyed and frantic.

The Gulf of Aden, once merely a critical shipping node, was flooded with massive numbers of ships and aircraft, scaring pirates so badly they dared not go out, fleeing ashore overnight to become law-abiding citizens.

Domestically, no one knew whether Old Zhang's report had been submitted, but they conventionally expressed serious concern, then waited silently for the investigation results.

Of course, domestic hands couldn't reach out far enough—even if they wanted to watch the spectacle, they lacked the ability.

The Slave Army clearly had no real combat power, but it couldn't be ruled out that the Human Alliance might have a few strong warriors hiding among them, setting up decoys; unless the Demon Clan unleashed a crushing blow, smashing the Slave Army into dust in one strike, any response they made would be wrong.

"Let's just eat ourselves!" Wu Lao ordered the maid to bring out breakfast; his displeasure had long since turned to furious anger—you may be busy, but surely you can spare a moment to meet Zeng Yi? He came all this way—could this possibly be your hospitality, Wu Baoyu?

"My young master says that if Miss Wang Lingzhi recognizes the owner of this Zhuge repeating crossbow, please meet with him!" Feng Kai continued.

Saltar's analysis truly startled Li Feng; given his experience, such a judgment was normal—no wonder he'd felt a strange sense of familiarity during the fight.

Old Zhai nodded slightly; this rule was his own: every Zhai family descendant must serve in the ranks and go to the battlefield—it was an ironclad tradition in the Zhai family, and those who wished to carry the Zhai family's spear could not be exempt.

With a muffled sound that shook the heart, a volley of arrows, level with the ground and one meter above it, shot out with a howl—and instantly, the enemies who had just stepped onto the city wall were blasted backward into the air by the overwhelming power of the siege crossbows, flying over ten meters beyond the wall before falling helplessly downward.

Wu Shan claimed he would care for the sects the Su family supported in the Northwest Region—but could he tolerate these sects expanding tenfold or even dozens of times into surrounding territories?

With Stone leading the way, Song Kai and the others walked through Luoyang's streets without feeling lost.

When they got in the car, Ju An turned to Nini and asked, "What did you learn today?"

Just as he was about to get out and make things clear with Li Moran, a message appeared on his phone.

Yet why did a persistent unease linger in her heart? Things seemed to be progressing too smoothly. She had long known the two had once fought bitterly over Mingyue—so why had Qin Liu died the very night the letter arrived?

Jiang Yu even felt that, amid the harsh years on the border, amid the swirling yellow sands and biting northern winds, Luo Feng had truly fallen in love with that brightest, warmest shade of red.

He couldn't bear to leave like this—he wanted to look at Su Xia a little longer, to imprint her clearly in his heart, so that when he could never see her again, he could still carry the memory of her, keeping her forever alive within him, accompanying him.

"I'm leaving—going back to shower and sleep. It's late!" Ling Xi released her and turned toward the car.

A familiar engine sound reached his hand—he was driving the car out of the villa and pulling up beside her.

Qin Yue was half-amused, half-frustrated; he'd never known before that Su Xia could be so adorable.

Qian Qian finally understood he wasn't joking—she stopped asking, letting the smoke continue to rise, drawing passing ships, while they waited in silence.

When everyone looked further back, the mist wall they had stepped through had vanished—behind them lay a deathly dark void.

The Kunlun Mountain God paused, seeing Jiang Hao's expression was genuine; his lips curled into a smile, the curve widening until uncontrollable laughter burst from him—starting as a quiet chuckle, then erupting into wild, thunderous laughter, as if he'd gone mad.