Chapter 93: When I Was Four Years Old

Si Yao parked the car, lifted her hand with a smile, and ruffled his hair. “We’re here, let’s get out,” she said.

Xing Jue brushed her hand away and instead caught her wrist. “Since we got engaged, I haven’t let you work, and I’ve never failed to give you a generous allowance each month. It’s countless times more than what you spent on me for food, clothes, and flowers over all those years.”

She smiled again. “I know…”

Suddenly, she was pulled into a warm embrace. She didn’t need to look to know it was Mo Yan—only in his arms did she ever feel such peace and warmth. She hugged his waist tightly, savoring the gentle comfort of being protected.

Banxia knew exactly who the man Wang Yuyan mentioned was. He’d joined the company earlier than Banxia and had decent performance, but in the end, Wang Yuyan promoted Banxia instead. Since then, the man had always held a grudge.

“Never mind, as long as I’m your last, that’s all I care about. Before I appeared, your past was your own life; you weren’t living for me, so I won’t mind,” Liang Ran said, then suddenly broke into a laugh.

“That’s still better than you. At least I was once so close to Jingjing, but you—ha!” Although Zhang Huai didn’t finish his sentence, both he and Han Yiran knew exactly what he meant.

Because if she left here, she wouldn’t know where to go. In this country, she felt a profound lack of security.

After Lu Xiuyan entered, he immediately went to check on her. She lay there, eyes wide, staring dazedly at the surgical lamp above her, her eyes faintly red.

“Axiao!” When Tang Hui heard Gao Xiang’s voice, it was as if a drowning man had finally grabbed hold of a lifeline. His eyes widened, fixing desperately on Gao Xiang.

A few years ago, she would certainly have egged Yang Lei on—go after him, get him, sleep with him first and talk later.

Xia Chuxiao sprang up. She had amnesia! And it seemed real—she couldn’t remember anything at all.

They were at the docks. The road wasn’t wide, and the crowd was dense. If they tried to let each other pass, it would probably take them even longer to leave the port.

“By the way, before the apocalypse broke out, was there anything unusual?” Ling Yihang suddenly asked.

Shen Ruoqi suddenly burst into tears, catching Li Yunze completely off guard. In the past, at most she would just smile, but today she was actually crying?

Feng Yuan bit her lip lightly with her teeth, took a sip of water, and swallowed two tablets—a double dose.

Li Mudong stood at the door for a long time, unable to bring himself to knock. It wasn’t that he’d lost his nerve, but rather he didn’t know what he could possibly say to her. He even wondered why he’d crossed oceans to come here at all, and whether it was right or wrong.

At a time like this, if I don’t go to hell, then who will? It’s more a matter of courage—the market’s already dropped this far, what is there left to fear? At worst, you just get stuck for a while.

Ever since stepping off the ship, even when Xiao Zhuo looked elsewhere, his attention never truly left Zhong Wanyan. Now, seeing her smile at him, he couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Ah, I—I’m hiding!” Ping’er put a finger to her lips, making a gesture for silence, then crouched and slipped under the bed.

The Baron of Bilair, a vassal of the Sydney family, was assassinated—Baron Bilair was killed, all direct members of the Bilair family were slaughtered, and the entire house was wiped out.

With a near-hysterical roar, and the resonant cry of the Moonblade echoing, the two figures split apart, one rising, one falling, no longer entwined.

Just as those two words appeared in his mind, the sea of sand below erupted with a deafening roar—a vortex of golden sand burst open, and from it shot a deep brown beam of spiritual power, trailed by tens of thousands of sand soldiers, charging upward with the force of a thundering cavalry.

No matter what your future holds, good or bad, don’t despair, and don’t regret the choices you once made. You simply did what seemed right to you at the time. Since that’s the case, there’s no need for regret.