Chapter 78: The Yan Kingdom Map Could Be Longer! (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Ruan Shisu was at a loss for words, sighing helplessly before slowly withdrawing her gaze and walking toward the door.

“For the sake of my inheritance, I might choose to stay with him for a while,” Ruan Shisu said casually.

Mo Ziyan, for reasons unknown, had been utterly bewitched by the foreign princess, skipping court for three straight days; wild rumors in the harem claimed Lady Ya changed her attire three times a day just to please the Emperor.

Xue Chen and Mao Jinshan watched without expression—pity? That didn’t exist; pitying an enemy was the height of stupidity.

A calm voice, thick with a sinister aura, suddenly spread out, causing the once lively chat to fall silent.

With this round of gifts, he immediately topped the donation leaderboard, the characters “Dragon Ao Tian” glowing brilliantly, bringing him a satisfied smile and immense satisfaction to his vanity.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I always felt something was off—had my complexion become paler than before? Or was my true perception playing tricks on me?

Nearly identical to Ye Lingchen’s expectations, the bag designed according to his style gave viewers an instant sense of awe.

I didn’t pay it any mind; I only knew to turn my head and look at Lu Junxun, my face flushed with embarrassment.

He couldn’t bear to see her suffer, nor could he bear to see her cry; even if she said nothing, he could guess some of it—he didn’t speak or ask, but that didn’t mean he’d pretend nothing had happened.

At these words, everyone at our table burst into laughter, especially Feixue, who collapsed onto the table, unable to get up for minutes; I stood there stiff-faced, frozen.

It seems irreplaceable, but that’s only because the outcome is unknown—or rather, one imagines some absurd consequence of letting go, deems it unacceptable, and thus chooses not to let go.

With no retreat left, Murong Chen gritted his teeth and fired this shot; the opponent simultaneously unleashed his Crimson Flame Cannon—the Black Hole Cannon and Crimson Flame Cannon collided amid the expectant gazes of both sides.

“The Forensics Team has been organizing data these past two days; tomorrow’s packed—I won’t be going,” Cheng Jinsong explained.

Fu Ning and Zuo Fei didn’t hesitate—they both agreed at once. Zuo Fei didn’t know what had happened to Zhang Hao; he simply wanted the food. Fu Ning was curious—he desperately wanted to know how Zhang Hao had dealt with Hua Qinghong.

“Ha! Thanks, boss!” Qin Kai and Cheng Haiyang cheered excitedly; Qin Kai even saluted clumsily—he was thoroughly drunk.

Unlike the beasts outside Dark City, these beings had an agreement with Aofa Tian to enter here for cultivation; they had their own lives here. But Gu Shen Kunyuan was merely a product of Aofa Tian’s memory—so why did he resemble other beings so perfectly, as if truly alive, with blood, flesh, and emotion?

He tilted his long sword, and the wings flared, executing a Void Dragon Slash exactly as Xingdie had instructed.

The Fat Immortal Lord bitterly regretted not fully mastering this technique before showing off—he’d previously believed his Locking Sky ability was unmatched under heaven.

At Zui Ren Restaurant, Qian Zhong grinned crookedly at the seafood Zhang Hao had brought—plentiful, fresh, unmistakably caught from the sea not long ago.

Everything before her began to vanish; the clean, smooth room gradually became coated in spiderwebs and dust, the low table and laid floor gone, replaced by half-collapsed rafters and crooked, broken tables and chairs.

Sakura-I slightly lowered her eyelids and didn’t step forward to expose them; the word “date” meant nothing more to her than “gathering,” differing only in the number of people. So she didn’t mind them following—she felt no aversion, especially since some of her own subordinates were among them.

Zhao Tianci tossed Cao Xing’s head aside, wiped the blood from his face, glanced at the blood on his clothes, and silently cursed how dirty they’d become.

So perhaps Su Hao playing outside was meant for her to hear—without disturbing her work.

The Empress Dowager sighed again, waved her hand to dismiss all the palace attendants, then pleaded earnestly.

Moreover, Fu Wenyan’s expression before her was lively, nothing like her former artificial pretense; even when she glared at him, he felt no annoyance—only found her adorable.

“You didn’t see me back then?” Chen Tianyi was puzzled; when they met in Wang Liri’s realm, Feng Yan had needed time to remember him.

Before Zhao Tianci could savor the triumph of that slash, he was dragged into another ambush—a realm of a celestial cultivator.

The night wind was chilly; Wei Zhexing, taking advantage of the dim darkness and without his glasses, greedily stole a few more glances at Pei Yun.

Wei Zhexing’s mother had already arranged her future path—she said that once the graduation internship ended, she’d accompany her, and with her mother paving the way, her future needed no worry.

Shiva was instantly startled—how profound his Buddhist affinity! He explained Buddhist teachings so effortlessly and thoroughly.

The Yellow River Dragon King laughed: “What kind of daydream are you having?” But no sooner had the words left his mouth than his throat felt as if stuffed with a burning coal—searing pain, unbearable; if he spoke again, fire would spew from his mouth.

When Long Shute slipped near the penalty spot, a massive sigh echoed over the Amsterdam Stadium.

Whenever Qi Yang thought of “Bai Ri San,” he would do this—push others away, build towering walls around his heart, locking himself inside.

The eunuch couldn’t hold out any longer, so he shoved Long Shute forward to take the bullet for him.

But Firmino, who had drawn the entire Paris defense, didn’t rush to shoot; instead, he slightly pulled the ball outward, then lifted his gaze to glance at the goal, as if about to unleash a thunderous strike in the next instant.

Xu You stood before her, unable to explain why he’d suddenly come in the dead of night to see her—perhaps he simply wanted to look at her, to talk to her; after each conversation, the empty courtyard no longer felt so cold and lonely.

The great shark sat on the sofa, drenched in sweat, his body slick with cold perspiration. After Yan Ming’s guidance, his inner conviction seemed to have grown firmer.

“Fine, fine, you’re right, everything you say makes sense! So tell me—what do I need to do? Shout ‘Go for it!’?” Chen Zhihe asked Gao Yang with a smile.