Chapter Eighty-Eight: Thunderclap

Lou Yu’s gaze turned cool. “Call me Daddy?”

Call what?

Call whom Daddy?

“Of course! Call me Daddy! Otherwise, I won’t let you carry me!”

Wang Heng’s fair, rounded little face was flushed scarlet, and even her eyes had gone hazy.

Plainly, she was not in a sober or normal state.

So the illness really was serious—serious enough that she had begun to babble nonsense.

Lou Yu was so exasperated he laughed. “Wang Nine, do you want to hear what you’re even saying—”

“No need. Whatever it is, say it over the phone. If you won’t, I’m hanging up.” Ye Li gave a snort. She was growing sleepy again; after reading those newspapers, she felt both tired and drowsy.

Tang Bingyu was not especially averse to being asked about Zhou Zekai on the program. After thinking for a moment, she replied.

“So you mean you don’t like him anymore? Even if he likes you, you still don’t like him?” Chen Yue pressed.

The wound truly was neither deep nor long, yet when she washed it, it still stung in fine little threads. Afterward, two pale, water-soaked marks were left behind. Ye Li stood before the mirror for a long while, thinking of the evening light; Qin Lang likely would not be able to see it.

“Since Yutang is unharmed, this junior is relieved. Old Madam, Fan Xi takes his leave.” Jin Fanxi confirmed that Bai Yutang’s injury posed no danger. After leaving behind medicinal herbs, he departed. Seeing that night had already fallen, Shi Hui deliberately sent someone to escort Young Master Jin home.

Because Lin Feng had fallen in battle, our side had lost one damage dealer, and with the fight now four against five, I did not hesitate. I decisively told everyone to retreat first, while the enemy team of five pressed their advantage and gave chase.

The very thought of Blan being on the opposite side weighed heavily on every player on the national server; coupled with a lineup like ours, winning this match would be difficult indeed.

Meng Weiwei pulled the trigger, but no bullet left the chamber. Was it out of ammunition? That couldn’t be right—there were clearly still three rounds left in the magazine.

At that moment, the two of them had just finished gathering a stalk of Brightlight Grass that had grown for roughly fifty thousand years, an excellent spiritual medicine for healing injuries. If refined into pills, its effects would be extraordinary.

It was four in the morning, though Ye Li did not make out the exact time very clearly. What she did see was a thin wound on Qin Lang’s wrist, red, stretching from his wrist to his elbow. The blood had already dried, yet that crimson mark, set against the rare fair whiteness of a young man’s skin, was still startling to behold.

The world’s earliest true joint-stock limited company had arisen in the State of Ning. Along with it came a stock exchange.

Yangmei’s mind was occupied with the affairs of the Zhao family; as for Zhong Lingyu, what filled his thoughts was naturally the matter of the Tongue Emperor.

Everyone nodded and fixed all their attention upon Tu Xue. With a furious roar, flames surged across his blade, and he hacked straight forward.

Controlling Tiemu Yun’s body, Xie Muyun had already wrapped himself tightly around He Zimeng, stealthily lifting her skirt. Though He Zimeng struggled with all her might, she could not escape Xie Muyun’s grasp.

After touring the public school, they went on to visit the winery, then made their rounds through the steelworks and the lead-zinc sulfuric acid plant, and afterward visited Huanyu Company and the Gao Family Research Institute. The Qian family was shaken beyond words. To them, all of this felt like a dream—something beyond imagination.

At the same time, Wu Yuze could see that Pei Donglai’s hesitation came entirely from not wanting to spoil his mood. But now that he had learned just how astonishing the other party’s background was, he was ready at once to decline the invitation.

“What did you say? The Demon God... the Demon God has awakened? Then where is the True Dragon? The Shield of Chaos? The Nine Divine Artifacts? And Zachar?” In one breath, the Elder of the Ancient Tomb hurled out a string of questions, even asking after the giant chieftain, Zachar. It seemed he was the only one who knew of the Nine Divine Artifacts.

After Lin Mutian had eaten three rabbits and two lamb shanks, he dropped straight to the ground, let out a full belch, and closed his eyes.

The gap among the top ten is not especially large. Since I’m a few levels higher than they are, I should be able to stay on the rankings for a few days and enjoy a bit of glory.

“Young man, you still have three shichen left. There is no need to hurry away.” The gray-robed elder came once more to Xiao Yi’s side and spoke with a hint of surprise in his expression.