Chapter 23

Zhang Lan listened in silence, saying nothing. What could she say? Her heart was a jumble of conflicting emotions—helplessness and hesitation. For the first time, she began to doubt the merit of obsessively fixating on student test scores.

Clad in a grey robe that fluttered in the wind, Elder Duan stepped through the void, flying into the distance like a streak of light. Looking down at Ying'er in his arms, there was no malice in the old man's eyes, only a deep, abiding tenderness.

Leng Yue panicked. "You said you were fine, so how can there be so much blood?" A large patch of her sleeve was soaked crimson, but no matter how she tried, the blood kept welling up, unstoppable. An ominous premonition clouded her mind, and her hands began to tremble, cold as ice.

Ye Xiang barely took in the rest of what was said. It was just more official jargon—everyone must follow orders, work together, and so on. What made her uncomfortable was the way he kept glancing in her direction.

Settling into the boss's chair in the office, Yiyu brought over some tea. Though it wasn't particularly hot, her father tilted his head back and drained the bowl in one gulp.

Once the room had quieted down, she immediately laid out the earnest invitation. To achieve her ulterior motives, she naturally exaggerated the severity of the situation, appealing to both reason and emotion.

In every family, elders tend to favor the younger generation. In fact, Elder Liu had heard the name Ye Xuan from Elder Fang. The old man didn't know the specifics, but before Elder Fang left, he had made a request of his old chess partner, hoping that the friend would look after Ye Xuan and help him take over his mantle in the future.

Nangong Fenghua murmured to himself. In the eyes of playboys like Yan Dongliu or Helian Lanling, he was a future leader of China, a master of balance and political maneuvering. In the eyes of the rivals he had crushed, he was a madman devoid of humanity—lacking emotion, morality, or reason.

Beside them stood a dark-faced man holding a video camera; clearly, the two were a reporter and cameraman from some newspaper or media outlet.

Therefore, Xiu Yao felt this loom didn't need to be overly complex. As long as it could weave some simple and practical patterns, it would sell much better.

With that, he pulled the door open and strode out with long, purposeful steps, slamming it shut with a heavy "bang." The group in the living room, who were watching television and eating fruit, all looked at him in surprise. Du Moran was among them, having just sat down to complain to his old friend Zhu Tianxu about his difficulties with painting.

"Really? You'll agree to any condition?" Lin Ming, fearing he might go back on his word, asked again intentionally.

The Emperor at this time was the Seventh Prince, Kang Ying, who had ultimately emerged as the victor in the Nine-Dragon Struggle for the Throne.

The newcomer was dressed in white, his robes loose and elegant, his manner remarkably carefree. He appeared to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, with slanted, piercing eyes and a handsome, refined face that radiated heroic spirit. His attire marked him as a wealthy scion of nobility.

Yet, he continued to ignore her. No matter how much she did, Concubine Li felt her belly was uncooperative; she still hadn't conceived. If things went on like this, it would be a disaster. She would have to resort to extraordinary measures.

Early the next morning, Qin Yan left the inn and headed to the pill market in Tianlei Province. As a qualified alchemist, whenever Qin Yan visited a city, he would always stroll through the local pill market.

He surveyed the office's decor. To an ordinary person, it might have been considered quite luxurious, but in Shui Han's eyes... well, in Shui Han's view, all the luxury on Earth was no different from a common mountain cave.

As Wang Peng spoke, many thoughts flashed through his mind, but with the fat man's previous warning, Wang Peng dared not voice them now.

Because of his unique experiences, the state he projected was extremely complex, setting him far apart from the male leads usually seen in television dramas.

"And what if he is? If he truly has some special talent or background, he will naturally be fine," Shui Han said at first with a start, then with indifference.

Stuart naturally wanted to say that this condition was offered specifically for Li Yan. However, once Li Yan truly joined the Mages' Guild, he would learn of the situation eventually. If he got angry and quit the guild later, Stuart couldn't bear the responsibility, so he could only tell the truth.

Sure enough, through the hazy yellow glow of the streetlamp, Zhao Gan saw a pitch-black gun barrel pointed at him. Because of the distance, Zhao Gan couldn't clearly see the type of pistol, but his nerves tightened slightly, ready to dodge at any moment.

This sentence acted like a spell. No matter how much pain or resentment Xia Haitong felt in her heart, she had no choice but to obediently shut her mouth.

Ling Yu hurriedly raised his palm to parry, but it was a step too late. A mouthful of blood sprayed out, and Ling Yu was knocked back more than a dozen steps by the sudden strike. Amidst the startled cries of the onlookers, he slowly came to a halt, his feet carving two deep trenches into the ground.

Song Daokou could infer Yuan Xiuyuan's temperament from the title Li Jinghong had spoken, but what he didn't know was Yuan Xiuyuan's background. Yet, after Li Jinghong whispered a few words into Song Daokou's ear, the way this punk looked at Yuan Xiuyuan again took on a different flavor.

However, Situ Xiao had told her to attend in full regalia. If she were too casual, it would be a sign of disrespect to him; it seemed she lacked the broad-mindedness to accept the woman her husband loved.