Volume One, Chapter 34: Seizing the Upper Hand in Public Opinion

Shen Chaowu’s hands paused over the keyboard. She turned her head and, by the faint glow of her phone, caught a clear glimpse of Zhou Jingdu’s expression. It was pitch black, deeply somber—like a shadow. Zhou Jingdu arched his brows; the laughter in his eyes had completely faded. “Who was that?” he asked. Shen Chaowu replied, “Aren’t you being a bit too nosy, Mr. Zhou?” “Even if it were my boyfriend, he wouldn’t interrogate me like this,” she said, growing impatient. “There’s nothing between us.”

“Very well. Nothing between us, you say.”

“Young master.” Mi Guang’s face grew agitated. These two words had been stifled in his heart for years; now, he no longer needed to conceal them.

Gao Chu fell abruptly into a long silence. Only the occasional gleam in his eyes betrayed the rapid calculations in his mind—should he strike first, or hold fast to Jiangling?

“Then after Yuan Shu crosses the river, how is Liu Yao supposed to keep him in check? If Yuan Shu gains power south of the Yangtze, won’t that be an even greater problem?” Deputy Director Tao and Old Jia, the poison master, retorted in unison.

In such a perilous place, only the two of them working together might slightly increase their chances of survival.

After reading, Ding Yin was struck dumb for nearly three minutes before his eyes lit up with surprise. He heaped praises on Yang Tianwen’s extraordinary talent, then retreated, his ambitions barely concealed.

The simultaneous deaths of the three consorts, including the Empress, was a monumental event. The Emperor immediately issued a decree: mourning would be observed throughout the land, no weapons drawn or celebrations permitted for three months. The nation was plunged into grief.

“So there’s no need for any carbon-14 testing. A simple spectral analysis will suffice!” Zhao Li declared, picking up two photographs and entering data into his tablet.

Yu Ziqi and his companions caught the command token, but exchanged confused looks. Leaving fifty thousand troops to guard the main camp was understandable, but with the combined armies of Qi and Huainan advancing, why wasn’t the General-in-Chief taking the field? Was the defense of this camp truly so crucial? Or was he wary of a surprise attack from the armies of Qi or Huainan?

“Go stop Wu Xia—don’t let him come here.” Bai Yan, knowing Wu Xia would come looking for him, didn’t want him to see the wound on his back, so he sent Gong and the others to intercept him. But Wu Xia was not someone so easily restrained.

The vanguard was led by Shen Qizong, who had once been the chief of Huaiyuan Stronghold. Yet, his record as chief there was less than impressive.

Wu Fan was confident when it came to dealing with synthetic humans, but he still needed the help of the many high-level cultivators present to stand against Huang Li and the others.

Whenever Zeng Yi recalled that day, warmth flooded his heart. He hadn’t expected that, after learning of his arrival, Xiao Jie would personally come downstairs with Long Tian and several managers to welcome him and Old Ma, giving him such honor. During the subsequent negotiations, Longcheng presented a very sincere contract.

After loading all the charging equipment, drones, and “Wind-Ear” robots, several large trucks drove into Villa 8. Once unloaded, Wu Fan stored everything away in the “Tears of Pangu.”

Yet these twenty men seemed oblivious to pain. They sprang to their feet, and when they fixed their gaze on Qin Yuan, there was neither anguish nor hatred—only calm indifference.

“Hey, brother, what does that phrase you were shouting mean?” Yang Ming asked curiously, turning to Liu Sheng Shiliulang.

To destroy one’s own foundation is, for a cultivator, tantamount to choosing death. Chu Linglong survived by seeking life amid death, reaching her current state only after obtaining the remnant soul of the Phoenix. How could Lu Xuan possibly allow Chu Linglong to ruin everything she had achieved?

Guan Jianming’s words drew the attention of many, gathering their gazes on Wu Fan.

He watched at eight times speed. When the clock reached eleven that night, a familiar figure appeared beneath the surveillance camera facing the nightclub.

“Commander Locke doesn’t seem to want Kelly to join the competition. What’s going on?” Ellen, having noticed, quietly asked Hugh.