Volume One, Chapter 98: Call Me Father

Shen Chaowu fell silent. She had lost count of how many people had called her slow-witted. She couldn’t understand it. She didn’t see herself as someone who had anything to do with that word. Forcing a smile, she said, “Well, if it’s between being an idiot and being honest, then I’ll stick with honesty.” At least honesty still had its merits.

If he hadn’t founded Jiangshan Grains and Oil at the beginning and had only returned to the village with what little money he had, it wouldn’t even have been enough to build a road. Now that Jiangshan Grains and Oil had developed, it belonged to Song Jiang, who had established his own business model. It was impossible to divert much money from the company to fund road construction now.

Jiya, as a member of the Bieqi tribe and one of the most favored juniors of the Great Khan, naturally could not act as carelessly as the warriors who could sleep beneath the open sky, unfazed by wind or rain.

Among the notifications, Li Geshi’s messages were at the top, standing out and causing her gaze to sharpen. This matter should have been well concealed by Yunzhong Pharmaceuticals. In later years, it was only after their failure that the story came to light: after investing billions, they still failed, causing the company’s stock price to plummet and it took years to recover.

“Chairman Song, I apologize for last time. I didn’t host you properly and let you down. That was my mistake!” As soon as they met, Tang Hui admitted his fault without hesitation.

A smooth regular season really wasn’t a good thing. There ought to be ups and downs so that the players could grow. If you waited until the playoffs to address problems, there wouldn’t be enough time. Look at STG and EG—weren’t they both legendary eighth-seed miracles?

Though they’d gone to bed late, everyone was up early except for Song Shan, who was the last to rise. By the time he woke, Song Hao and Song Jifang were already putting up couplets, with Song Jitong helping at the side.

The eagle-eyed hawk, its belly gutted, lay shivering on the rocky slope. When Zhong Lingshi arrived, the jackals were already gone. They had come seeking vengeance, for the hawk had, in front of their king, savagely hacked at an injured jackal with a knife.

Dr. Liu had long surpassed the stage where personal connections mattered. With his current status and ability, no amount of networking could sway him—he cared only for his patients.

The recent revelation had stirred the crowd; many now looked at Luo Tian with burning eyes. If Sword Wujie hadn’t spoken up to claim him as a disciple, even the elders from the five sects would be fighting to recruit him.

“It’s somewhat similar,” Ning Lan said, “though not as robust, nor as lush as what grows by Yang Lake.”

According to Zhang Hengfeng, with his early-stage Qinpingtian Realm strength, he could only reach a blue rating. Qin Ping thought to himself, but now, after achieving the blue rating, he’d only used less than thirty percent of his internal energy; he still had reserves left.

She exchanged a few words with Jing Ping, even feigning concern about her childbirth, asking if she’d found a reliable midwife and offering to introduce one she trusted.

Yet, if Min Anguo truly issued such an order, it wouldn’t matter whom she contacted—no one would help her.

Zhang Changyuan looked at his mother. He’d wanted to say the same thing: the best option was to accept Ning Yi’s offer, secure an official post, and preserve the strength of their twenty-thousand troops in Yunding.

It was late at night. Duoduo, who’d been busy with them all day, had fallen asleep in the car and was being carried down by Min Anguo.

Mr. Chu’s cultivation was unremarkable, but his divination skills seemed to see through the past and glimpse the future. Most crucially, he was a master strategist.

With a clang, the door was pushed open. As he expected, inside was a tatami room—small but exceptionally tidy.

A cold gleam flashed in his eyes. The Vine Ghost Taoist, black light swirling in his palm, conjured a vortex of dark energy. With a twist of his foot, he vanished into thin air once again.

Last time, he’d almost died at Zhao Lin’s hands and still bore a grudge—he wouldn’t rest until he’d captured him and exacted his revenge.

She turned to leave in long strides, but Zhao Lin caught her wrist, yanked her back, and slammed her hard against the wall.

The Queen of Northern Barbarians and Bai Xiao had no bond of nurture, but there was the bond of birth. Qingfeng could understand Bai Xiao’s pain.

Seizing this opportunity, Jun Lingyun also wanted to conduct a census, lest any Northern Barbarian spies remained hidden in the capital.

They had not forgotten those monstrous cries, the torment inch by inch, the slow accumulation of despair.

Just yesterday, Xie Luan was still in her dark and sunless cell, worrying about her mother. She asked the jailer about the situation outside—when might she be released?

It was too late to attend school, so he simply covered up and went to the café to earn money playing piano. There, he encountered a troublesome customer who kept throwing money at him, demanding that he play endlessly.

Yi Zhu looked at the other’s worn equipment and weary appearance and could guess her circumstances; for some reason, his thoughts turned to his own mother.

If she were really taken to the authorities and something went wrong, there would be no escaping blame. Even if nothing happened, people would think it was officials covering for each other. It was better to hold an open trial.

Zhou Heng was a bit surprised, but then it made sense—Fang Jizhong had probably arranged everything early on, since he’d said last night they’d be coming today.

For a moment, Feng Yao didn’t know how to respond to Xiao Yu’s words and blushed deep red.

A quarter of an hour later, Luan Yu recounted everything that had happened that day, but skillfully omitted the part where the Qinglian Sect was nearly destroyed.

As he passed by Yuan Linglan, he laughed, teasing a lock of her hair with his finger before letting it slip through his hand and striding away, treating everyone else as though they were invisible.

Wang Mu stroked a massive door, perfectly square and dark gold, fused seamlessly into the surrounding walls.

Jiang Qing checked the time again and, seeing there was enough, relaxed. Ten minutes later, everyone returned to the starting point, threw down their backpacks, and sat down on the ground to rest.

So when Elder Qingxu heard Bloodkill’s words, his feelings were complicated.

In the Su family’s living room, Su Xiangdong came hurrying down from upstairs, his face alight with excitement. Spotting Lin Bei, his face broke into a delighted grin.