Volume 1, Chapter 156: Little Moron

Shen Zhaowu seriously wanted to throw her phone away.
She felt the phone was no longer clean.
She replied: [...Could you please act normal for once.]
This conveyed an obvious sense of impatience, even annoyance.
Seeing this message, Shen Hanchuan felt very aggrieved: [I'm just too happy. Victoria, you've changed.]
[............]
Shen Zhaowu replied with a string of ellipses to express her speechlessness.
She directly logged out of her account.
All signs suggested that this child was possessed by some unclean entity; if this continued, the child would surely not survive.
Yet no one had ever taught them that life had a thousand different faces, much like the luxurious silks and satins filling this room, each possessing its own unique charm and breathtaking beauty.
Lin Yuanzhou smiled gently. As a breeze happened to drift in through the window, softly stirring the bangs across his forehead, his smile gained an even more wind-like softness.
The man's expression stiffened in fright at Su Nuannuan's look, and in his panic, he pointed at Jiang Ruomei to defend himself.
"Jing Niang, we've all heard about what happened today. You've truly done us proud!" Old Man Li walked around Jing Niang, showering her with praise.
After everyone disembarked, Okamura Ningchi led eighteen terrestrial immortals as they swept through the air from the ship onto the sandy beach, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Alright, alright, you busy bees, I get it." Lautus cleared his throat and got straight to the point: "After Research Institute Number Thirty-Two split off, during the initial period, there was a severe shortage of talent and funds. We had no experimental materials and no laboratory space; aside from some data we managed to bring along, we had virtually nothing."
She was not someone who easily made a fuss. For the sunburn, she could simply apply wet towels for a few more days, and it would naturally heal over time.
Just as his mind was wandering wildly, Li Chang'an walked in with Zhao Hu, carrying several heavy chests.
An Hao looked up and saw that he had dark skin and wore a coarse cloth, front-buttoned tunic jacket rarely seen in the city, with trouser legs as wide as buckets. Tucked diagonally into his waistband was a dry tobacco pipe dangling a red cloth tobacco pouch. With every slight movement, the cloth pouch swayed back and forth, making it quite eye-catching.
"Hiss, hiss, hiss!" Wherever the green light from the bloody skull shone, it was fiercely corroded, erupting into clusters of green blisters that continuously burst with a bubbling sound, making the already ferocious bloody skull instantly look unimaginably terrifying and disgusting.
On a spring night, a pale moon shrouded in gauze appeared graceful and poised. A breeze rustled through the spring grass, and the moonlight was as calm and gentle as still water. Inside the room, the two of them truly embraced each other because of spring. Whether in the bright daylight of life or the dusky nights of twilight, any place where you are is the best of times.
After getting out of the car, An Hao waved gently at them. Seeing the car drive away, she immediately hailed a taxi.
"We fight to the death and nothing more!" This unshakeable resolve, accompanied by their battle cry of fighting to the death, was clearly conveyed amidst the countless war cries and angry roars to every single one of the fewer than three hundred Yellow Turban soldiers remaining around them.
They were already thoroughly surrounded by the enemy layer upon layer, with over a thousand cavalry troops patrolling the outermost perimeter as a final line of defense. Under such circumstances, even if Iron Bull led a charge, the only possible outcome would be that he managed to punch his way out alone.
In a place crowded with people and eyes everywhere, drawing even the slightest attention would surely lead to the opposite of the desired effect.
Thinking of this, Zhang Shiping, who had already returned to the manor, grew somewhat conflicted. Although the purpose of his trip was to enter the grassland, their original plan was to conceal their movements and travel quietly, given that their true objective was to destroy the sacrificial altar and erase the branding upon themselves.
Before anything else could even happen, the piercing, scolding voice of Auntie Zhao came echoing from inside the doorway, met only by the subservient responses of the employees, such as "Yes, yes, boss." As for anyone daring to talk back, not a single such person existed in this dyeing workshop.