Volume One, Chapter 35: Knocking Shen Hanchuan to the Ground

Victoria, to Shen Hanchuan, was a ray of light in his darkest hour. Her significance was immense. Shen Hanchuan had even wondered what he would do if Victoria were unattractive. Upon reflection, he realized he harbored no romantic feelings toward her; instead, it was a deep psychological reliance, much like the one he had for Shen Zhaowu—

Shen Zhaowu…?

“Bingbing… what are you doing?” Li Zitang suddenly opened her eyes wide, staring in confusion at Cao Yanbing standing at the door.

Although their sight-reading and performance skills were solid, accomplishing a flawless execution in just twenty minutes was an immense challenge.

Many years ago, this was an evil artifact that Zhuge Wu had once obtained from Zou Huan, capable of producing excellent wine automatically.

Tong Xin simply could not understand himself, but since the item was purchased by someone else, and he had benefited from it, he saw no reason to complain.

To those with insight, these words were believable, but others only rolled their eyes. To discover so many treasures in stone gambling on a single day? And from the very first stone Nightmist selected, there had been almost no waste—such skill, how many crystal masters here could hope to match it?

Wang Mo stood with the slip of paper, at a loss. Seeing Xia Yun approaching, he hurried over.

Flanders was utterly astounded—Xu Xia had guessed correctly, not even a punctuation mark out of place.

Qin Hao braced his leg against the coffin lid, using the strength of his back to kick hard, trying to force it open.

Seeing the body collapse to the ground, the other guards were shocked and immediately opened fire on Jing Xiuran. Unfortunately, they were already outside the effective range of their rifles, so their shots were wildly inaccurate. Any stray bullets were easily dodged by Jing Xiuran.

On the one hand, he felt satisfaction in not disappointing Xu Zhen, for he had indeed managed to secure some rights for him.

The young man was none other than Zhang Xinsheng, the rising star of Fourth High School.

Beside him, Bei Mingrui had already fallen to the ground, eyes wide open, but the corners of his mouth curled in a mocking smile.

To the right stood a thin man in a black suit, tall and lean, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

“Principal Luo is right—why should someone as outstanding as Xinsheng be targeted like this? I for one can’t make sense of it!” Ning Yueying protested indignantly.

“In that case… should we send a message to the Grand Elder?” The Second Elder gritted his teeth. He needed the Grand Elder’s instructions, otherwise, he truly didn’t know what to do.

“No… I wasn’t thinking anything.” He snapped out of it as if caught speaking out of turn, his expression dazed.

“Thank you, Master…” Du Yi bowed slightly, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Wu Hai was no longer in the room.

Within Du Yi’s spiritual platform, he fell into deep thought. This was the second time he had passively entered his spiritual platform, but now it was no longer the purplish-red expanse of the past.

Fan Xuemin felt his heart tremble slightly; he knew what that gesture meant. Since being with Brother Yi, he had comforted himself that as long as he held a place in Brother Yi’s heart, it was enough.

“No!” the Plague King cried out in alarm, desperately trying to marshal his power to seal off that fragment of space. But Wang Yitian gave him no chance; with a twist, he darted inside, leaving the Plague King gaping in shock at the sudden turn.

It was common knowledge that Americans knew little about football, and Hollywood’s main market was not the United Kingdom.

After all, Tang Wu’s stamina was limited. Since that match against Chelsea, he had never performed so wildly again, which only confirmed the media’s suspicions.

“Hold on, let’s clear our thoughts. There’s no doubt I’ve lost my memory. Given that, I should anchor myself and try to reach out to the knowledge core.”