Volume One, Chapter 32: Too Poor!

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How could Imperial Physician Gao not know how ridiculous today’s spectacle was? Having attended to the Emperor for many years, he had heard many complaints from him regarding the Empress.

Perhaps due to exhaustion, or perhaps the result of a late-night snack, Vermilion Bird drifted into a hazy sleep.

We are all in the same circle, so there is no need to speak plainly; we leave you some dignity. But our attitude is clearly laid out here: if that day ever truly comes, I will pull him back.

Afterwards, Bai Xiao jumped onto a rock to sit, and chatted with Su Qing for a long time. Perhaps because the previous topic had opened their hearts, Su Qing answered all of Bai Xiao’s questions without reservation. Through this, Bai Xiao gained a clear understanding of the emotional entanglement between Su Qing, Fang Rouya, and Yang Xuhong.

The man in the dragon robe was the Emperor of the Great Qing Empire. Just a few days ago, he had made an unthinkable decision: to have the entire nation honor Luo Pingchuan as their ancestor.

Walking to the window lattice, she pushed it open and looked out to see an endless sea of spider lilies.

A white pillar of fire erupted, and before the father and son could even finish a cup of tea, they were reduced to ashes by the terrifying white Sirius flame. Watching the city lords, who had already been burned to ashes, being incinerated once more, the dozen men from the Devil School felt their legs go weak and their bodies tremble, their despair written all over their faces.

Thus, led by Deng Zhe, the group left the storage room and walked in a certain direction.

And what if it were the same person? It only highlighted the legend of the monk Fading. Having no relation to him, and with no desire to become a monk under his guidance, this effectively severed the limited connection between them.

Yang Zhi took out his mobile phone and opened the daily trending topics, only to find it completely calm, with not a single mention of the eighteen lives lost.

At four o’clock in the morning, outside the American Airlines Center in Dallas, several workers were putting up brand-new posters on the arena’s outer wall. Such tasks were usually completed in the dead of night when no one was around, so that by the time the fans arrived the next day, the posters would look completely fresh.

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In the distance, A2 and the others watched the battle in disbelief. They saw that wherever the black magic spheres touched the sandy ground, the sand dissolved in an instant in a way they could not comprehend.

“I’m jumping in too, I’ll catch it in the swimming pool,” the Springer Spaniel barked. As a decorated service dog, it refused to lose to a Husky.

Constantly watching game tapes, constantly training—to others, Yi Yang’s life seemed incredibly monotonous, but he found joy in it.

“Mo Ran, is there anything else we need to do next?” Zhifeng asked, rarely forgetting the task at hand.

Commentator Xiyang exclaimed in surprise after the SSW team’s top-laner Gnar was killed under the tower by Shang Moze’s Yasuo.

This dramatic scene left everyone stunned. How could they have gone from being so overbearing to this in the blink of an eye?

This was a continent of swords and magic, home to knightly battle aura and mage incantations. It was precisely because they saw this that the two requested to learn, and as it happened, one could learn these things in the Elf City.

“Haha, I’m just a rough man. The Qianxing Medical Hall is short-handed right now, so it’s only right that I help out!” Du Yuan explained.

“Beep, beep.” Just then, a notification sound erupted from his phone. Men Hao opened it and, upon seeing the numbers, nodded with satisfaction; one hundred million had been easily acquired.

The host of the program was a man in his forties named Kang. On Li Wei’s first day of work, Anchor Kang had specifically taken the time to communicate with her.

This aesthetic scene suddenly unfolded: Mu Ran looked at Cang Konghong with a bewildered gaze, while Cang Konghong’s massive body loomed before Mu Ran like a great mountain, acting as the sturdiest shield. High in the air, nine martial masters wielded blades, slashing toward Mu Ran, the silver light of their swords filled with terrifying battle aura.

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Wen Fei was the architect of his own misfortune and would be exposed sooner or later. Luo Feng was not worried about this. It was just that, for now, Luo Feng could still hold onto Wen Fei’s leverage and perhaps squeeze out some benefits.

“Boss, we should just launch an all-out attack. If this continues, our people will be slaughtered to the last one,” the Violent Corpse King roared aggressively.

“Murong Zhi and Murong He!! How is this possible?! I treated them quite well!!” Murong Feiyang was so angry his lungs felt like they were about to explode, yet he still found it hard to believe.

“President Qing, long time no see.” Xiao Yi and Nangong Xinyi, who had been observing from the side, walked over. It was Nangong Xinyi who spoke, wearing a faint smile.

As for Bai Qian, knowing they were about to return, she offered a cunning smile and proceeded to the Golden Throne Hall without drawing any attention. The weather had completely warmed up, and people were turning their homes upside down, dragging many items out; the courtyard was in a state of utter disarray.

“Good!” Hearing the words of the Ancestor of Thousand Pills, Zhou Tong immediately put away his bow and arrows and sped toward the outskirts of the imperial city with the Ancestor.

“For now, we must hurry and heal our wounds! Once we are healed, we can take the twenty-some brothers and leave; there will be nothing Luo Feng can do!” the Shadow King said, focused.

The Half-Moon God of the Southern Frontier might be an enemy after Shaoyan; naturally, Shaoyan had to know him inside and out. No matter how skilled Guying was, he could not instantly take the life of the Southern Frontier’s Half-Moon God under the gaze of the Half-Moon Mirror.