Chapter 197

Crack!

Wang Zonglei slammed the documents onto the desk angrily: "This Guo Fan—I thought he actually had some talent, but he's just garbage!"

Wang Zongjun sipped his tea and said calmly: "It's just a few million in investment—why get so worked up?"

After all, he was the man who had fought his way to the top of mainland entertainment, so he still had some composure.

"Brother, we're all counting on this movie to be a hit, but he can't even recoup the costs."

A month later, the lake had expanded outward by about a hundred meters, and during that month, mosquitoes had nearly vanished—Luo Ming drove five shorn sheep to the lake's edge, circled them halfway around, and returned; only one sheep bore a single swollen bump.

Xue Xin's Bankai, Zhan Kong Shi Yu, grants the ability to traverse time, allowing entry into pre-existing timelines.

"Thank you!" Yang Yan glanced at him gratefully, understanding exactly what Ye Qian was thinking. Between them there was a special tacit understanding—no need for many words; a slight hint, or even just a glance, was enough to grasp each other's meaning.

KSK Autonomous County is a border city in Long Country, geographically contiguous with Afghanistan, with Pakistan beside it and Tajikistan on the other side.

Yet now Zheng Yu no longer doubted this was his illusion—especially after recalling the system's prompt, which filled him with boundless confidence.

"Get out!" Wu Lai swept his gaze over the crowd, snorted coldly, and his voice boomed, making everyone tremble.

"That's a clone." The light had already flown far away; Luo Ming didn't hide it—though he omitted some key details.

Like your parents sent me to pick you up, or there's something delicious, or someone's looking for you—children's pure, bright minds are simple; such simple excuses have destroyed countless families.

He Feng had watched Dong Ye grow up, treated him like his own nephew, saw him mature, taught him Shunbu, and accompanied him.

As for the lower-ranking members, it's easier—they can be picked from the soldiers, and besides, Luo Ming has plenty of disciples.

Lin Ying and Qing Muyang recalled their first meeting, remembered past embarrassments, and burst into laughter.

The flood surged violently, waves crashing, carrying trees and all sorts of debris, rushing swiftly downstream.

Outside the emergency room, the corridor was packed with people—all colleagues who had fought alongside Nan Binghuai. They struggled to accept this cruel reality; in their agonizing wait, not one failed to shed tears.

Poor Sangzhao's cultivation practitioner, trapped in the inferno, could not even cry out—the sound drowned in the flames, and in silent, desperate screams, he gradually turned to ash.

Shen Qiangwei knew nothing of military matters, but from Gu Xuanqing's tone, she understood it was a surface alliance, with each side acting independently, interfering with nothing.

Needless to say, as residents of the provincial capital, these colleagues from the Discipline Office still harbored a quiet sense of superiority, even if they never voiced it.

Old Feng had never imagined his son was this stupid—he couldn't even handle such a simple matter. Before any major decision, a company must first investigate every surrounding circumstance.

"Alright, we'll go eat hotpot tonight." Mo An'an, unwilling to refuse, agreed—she decided to join them for hotpot that night; perhaps her mood would improve.

Lin Ying wasn't letting Yang Bing and Luo Shijun off—he simply had more important things to do now.

After discussing the details with his two trusted subordinates, he remembered another matter.

It was a matter of lightning and fire—brief, if you will—but that move must be recounted backward in time.