Volume One, Chapter 57: Encountering Gu Man Once Again

“Daddy isn’t home yet!” Gu Shanshan blinked her eyes, dark and bright as black grapes, looking up at her, the corners of her eyes flickering toward the door.

But after waiting a long time, there was still no movement from Wang Yu. When he finally opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on the bed, with Wang Yu sitting at a distance beside him.

Xiang Yang’s long blade touched the ground with its tip, the muddy yellow primal energy pouring endlessly into the blade. Cracks, countless and spreading, ran along its surface as if the blade was about to break. Yet these fissures did not stop at the blade but spread to the ground below as well.

Gou Yong paid this no mind. Instead, he sent his eldest son Gou Huo, bearing gold, silver, and jewels, as well as a charming beauty, to deliver gifts to Jiang Ning.

Xiang Yuanwu remained unmoved as the transcendents tried to stop Luo Wei, for there were far too many arrows; it was impossible for Xiang Yuanwu to block them all.

Jiang Rao had just relived the life of Dong Mingya and was still lost in the tides of joy and sorrow, unable to pull herself free, barely hearing what Lady Eleven was saying. Now, whenever she thought of Dong Mingya, sorrow overwhelmed her, her nose tingled, and in the very next moment, her eyes brimmed uncontrollably with tears.

Fortunately, Li Mu, fearing Jiang Suyi would discover it, had given it two names, or else he would have met his end today.

Lu Lan shook her head, then, under the gaze of all present, turned around and walked over to Tang Yuan’er, taking her hand in hers.

Yet Qi Ye had no recourse; the man was dead. But he knew that only the body had died. Since it was the reincarnation of the white flood dragon, his soul must still linger in the world. He vowed to find him before his next rebirth.

At the very moment the other party chose to accept and entered the custom room, a line of text popped up in the chat channel.

After the bombing ended, the terrorists drove in by the dozens and began firing at the survivors. These men had been hanging back at a distance just now, waiting for the convoy a kilometer away; Wang Jin’s scanners had not even detected them.

Han You glanced at the ID queued up alongside his own in the game, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

Compared to those warriors devoured by the flames, the guerrilla fighters, ordered to lie in wait deep in the forest, were the fortunate ones.

“How many times has he been beaten? It can’t be few,” Su Yuqi’s voice was as lazy and drowsy as ever.

He couldn’t handle this himself, so he struck the main gate open with a single palm. These people would have to be left to Wu Zhaoying to deal with. But from a single glance just now, Ye Tan could tell that even if they were released, they were finished.

December in Lisbon was bitterly cold. In a discreet corner café, a clandestine meeting was underway.

Han You had been watching all this with the air of a spectator, but suddenly something occurred to him, and his brow twitched.

But looking at the support bounty on this side, it turned out they already had a Frost Scepter. Who knows what the opposing ADC, Obama, who was scrimping and saving for his big item, must be thinking.

Wang Jin stepped onto a flying talisman, with Shifang close behind. He was determined to see what they were up to.

Qin Tiange gazed quietly through the window, his brows tightly knit in vigilance. During the meeting, he had sensed a strange aura—definitely not human, but not quite zombie either—something very peculiar.

She claimed she wouldn’t easily trust anyone, but when Yuqi appeared before her, barely clinging to life, she was moved.

Though there was still time left before the end of the game, the American Airlines Arena was already overflowing with raucous cheers and applause, the enthusiasm uninterrupted for these last few minutes.

Such a situation left Tang Anhe not only furious but also deeply satisfied, as if he truly were the protagonist.

As for Oreki, he looked completely unbothered by the praise, and Zero and the Crimson Crape Myrtle seemed long accustomed to it.

“Don’t worry, Mayaka, you can do it.” To Chitanda’s surprise, she caught Mayaka’s muttered words and smiled warmly.

So Chitanda could only endure it, her cheeks puffed out on each side. She was having a hard time holding back too!

And there’s one more thing I haven’t had a chance to tell you—I already wounded that killer. We encountered him earlier, and I shot him in the back with my crossbow.

Outside, layer upon layer of purple bamboo enclosed the area, growing wild and elegant. Before Bu Tianyin could approach, a few maidservants came fleeing from the bamboo grove as if escaping disaster.

A hoarse voice, old and cracked, croaked, “Sister…” Everyone was startled—Li Bin had woken up! Only Li Zitang felt a chill in her heart; her brother seemed… off.

It was potato harvest season—even her grandmother had gone to the fields, and for once her mother hadn’t gone to sell tofu. She’d finished baking for her brother-in-law’s stall and was now preparing to go to the fields too.

Whenever Su Erni returned to her mother’s house, she’d look for something tasty. She hadn’t even swallowed the piece of pig liver in her mouth before splitting open a bun and adding some crispy pork fat. Delicious.

Lin Ye took a deep breath, recalling the few scattered phrases Zheng Xiujing had once mentioned about half-air singing technique.

“My lady has spoken thus—if your husband does nothing, would that not be a shame in the face of such words?” With that, he suddenly embraced Xuan Ying.

The Silver Claw Immortal and Red Dance were accustomed to such scenes and took no action. But Ah Wu and Purple Robe, more humane, did their best to rescue the unfortunate and tend to their wounds.

After Su Ruoxue left the Qian residence, Xu Wei was thrown out by the Qian family as well. The apology gifts they sent were all returned, untouched.

Still, he reminded Qing Ling to pay extra attention to any movement inside the carriage.

As Lang Gao drew near Su Shaofeng, a sharp dagger appeared again, shattering Lang Gao’s soul.

Compared to the zombies in films and television, I think I am now a better fit for the description “the walking dead.”

I feel neither anger nor awe. No warm nostalgia for my homeland flows through me. I have left my childhood behind, and even the beautiful days with Mosikana are now nothing more than memories in my mind.