Volume One, Chapter 37: Bringing Food to Third Brother

As soon as Su Tingxue finished speaking, she noticed her parents and several brothers, including Fu Zhilin, all looking at her. It was as if she had done something wrong. Biting her lip, Su Tingxue protested, “Why are you all looking at me like that? I’m not wrong—my sister gave me her job, gave me her fiancé, that’s what she should do. Even if she gave me her life, it wouldn’t repay all she’s done!”

“What have I done?” Su Ningxia pressed closer, her cold gaze fixed on Su Tingxue. “What exactly have I done to you?”

Suddenly, Su Tingxue was frightened. She curled into Fu Zhilin’s arms, murmuring, “Brother Lin, you have to protect me!”

Fu Zhilin could only sigh in resignation.

To challenge the world’s top yacht manufacturers head-on was pure folly. Though all shipbuilding fell under the same industry, this particular field was uncharted territory for Modern Heavy Industries—no experience, no technology, no reputation. Why would the world’s wealthiest abandon established makers for an upstart like them?

So, when he heard things he didn’t understand, he never dug too deep. After all, Lingji would never answer him anyway.

He’d always thought his mother lacked sense, but never dared say it aloud. How could he communicate with her? Over the years, Old Lady Qu had never been one to reason with.

A gentle hum sounded as the light barrier around Xi Yin and the others slowly faded, revealing the soldiers of the Blazing Fire Squad.

In a haze, He Qing began to feel sleepy amidst the strong scent of floral cologne filling the room. In the end, she couldn’t say if she was truly tired or just intoxicated by the fragrance.

He scowled at the documents in his hand, all recent Korean scientific research on the X-virus. Yet, without exception, nothing truly valuable was contained in these files.

The emperor let out a cold snort, seized the jade tablet, and left with his entourage.

The security guards, having struggled against the force at the gates, now turned to calm the crowd. “Don’t panic. We’re here.” The captain, gripping his belt, issued firm, commanding orders that somewhat eased the chaos.

In the modern era, even with national resources for selection and training, snipers remained a precious asset. Yang Guang didn’t believe that with his limited military knowledge he could simply assemble a few guns and produce sharpshooters in the Ming Dynasty to rival those of the present day.

Tang Fei had always been sensitive to scents, but now she had no heart to savor the fragrance clinging to the third prince.

“Mom, it’s alright. I’ll take good care of myself.” Tang Yanran’s voice trembled, betraying a sob she tried hard to suppress.

If he didn’t personally subdue the Jiaomawang today, how could he face his disciples and followers afterward?

The dish before him was unlike anything he’d tasted—an intense, spicy aroma overwhelmed his senses.

Yue Mingxin, however, felt differently. Not only was he not angry, but he even nodded and smiled at the young man.

After witnessing Hefeng’s outburst of strength, Hashirama didn’t hesitate. Using the same method, he unleashed his own chakra, stirring the air and generating a gust.

Just as the burly man looked up, a familiar figure dropped before him faster than he could react.

His body had been torn open, bones shattered, and he had nearly perished. Fortunately, the Chaos Pearl had shielded his spirit, and thanks to the timely intervention of the Wood Spirit Pearl, his body recovered completely in just over a month.

Fukasaku and Shima, at that moment, helped Hefeng absorb enough natural energy, converting it into Sage Chakra.

Ying Jun was curious: one prisoner was a ninja from the East, the other a shape-shifter from a supernatural group. Had his senior brothers never captured such beings alive before?

Lin Yao spoke without a trace of guilt. At first, to avoid exposing his time-travel, he’d blamed his changed personality on heartbreak.

Yet ensuring the quality of a medicinal pill was never easy. Even his former master couldn't guarantee that every pill would be of the finest grade. The higher the rank of the pill, the harder it was to maintain its quality.

The great hall was abuzz with lively debate. The elder from the Ao family, who had spoken earlier, did not join in. Instead, he stared blankly at the images of Ling Yue and Ling Xue on the screen.

This move instantly sparked heated discussion among the cultivators—a set of three early Core Formation puppets, reduced to ash in the blink of an eye.

Shang Jue’s voice was calm and assured, exuding confidence. Zhaoxi said nothing in response, but the trust and faint reliance in her gaze spoke volumes.

The young woman gazed at Si without pause, while Si, frightened, pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide, cold sweat on her brow, slipping away along the wall to escape.

Feng Yuan felt a bitterness as harsh as coptis in his mouth, his face flushed with shame and anger. But with Feng Qin’s order given, how could he defy the imperial will? He performed a formal bow of departure, misery etched across his features as he left.

The sudden ambush plunged gods and demons into close combat. Lin Feng, skimming across the void, darted between the two sides—sometimes attacking the gods, sometimes the demons—throwing the battlefield into chaos.

More than thirty years had passed. Old Li Third had transformed into an underworld kingpin, commanding thousands of beggars in a tightly organized network.

No one could pinpoint the location of the giant centipede’s lair in the desert. Qin Yi could only search in all directions.

Back then, Song Shifeng still maintained the image of a devoted husband. When his attempts at manipulation failed, he made no effort to side with Old Lady Song.

As for Lu Yiming, he awkwardly withdrew his hand, bringing it to his nose—what a pleasant scent.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a pair of large hands gripped her slender waist. She was pulled up and seated on the desk.