Chapter Forty-Three: The Lights Out Emerald

Fatty Zuo’s eyes bulged. “What kind of talk is that?”
Sun Fugui quickly admitted he’d misspoken; he meant that if these jade walnuts were real, it might cost someone their life.
I asked Sun Fugui what was going on.
Sun Fugui seemed barely able to contain himself. His mustache twitched as he twisted his face, but he didn’t answer. He stubbed out his cigarette, then pulled a pair of white gloves, a flashlight, and a magnifying glass from the drawer...

Next, one of the most important things to do was wait patiently. But during this waiting period, Zhong Nan still had two major tasks to complete. The first was to instruct the Imperial Medical Bureau and Wang Qingyao to stabilize the Emperor’s condition—no matter what, things must not get any worse.

Right after the Spring Festival, Zhong Nan plunged headlong into work at the armaments factory. Over the last two months, he had shifted his focus to the research and improvement of weaponry, regularly inspecting the factory to keep track of the progress of various projects.

The sects were not an easy bone to gnaw. Even the imperial court found it difficult to suppress their arrogance. Pei Donglai’s move, aside from signaling a crackdown on some minor sects, likely wouldn’t amount to anything more significant.

“What does Cui Yuan think?” Xie Lanyin was half skeptical; it was natural for Ning Xin to care about her own child, but why would Cui Yuan intervene in matters regarding his wife’s child with her ex-husband?

“No, I can’t sleep. Lying down makes me dizzier, so I might as well get up and walk around,” Guo Yu said with a yawn, rubbing his temples. As the eldest legitimate grandson, orphaned of both parents, he had always been deeply cherished by his grandmother and well cared for by his uncles and aunts—treated like a precious jewel, protected at all costs.

So when Mr. Xiao Ye heard that the other party might be an emperor-level master, he immediately changed direction at a sharp ninety-degree angle, heading toward a wine house that looked promising by the roadside.

When Zhong Nan awoke, he found a thin blanket draped over him. He assumed it was Qiu Xiang who had covered him, but the faint fragrance lingering on the blanket made him rethink his guess.

Luoyang looked at Xiao Yiyi, feeling a bit embarrassed, and sheepishly handed over the magic treasure to Shi Xi.

After some thought, she decided it was best not to say anything, lest Empress Xia be infuriated on the spot, which would not do.

Jierhalang spoke plainly, while Duoduo was full of bluster and fabrication, all for one purpose: to escape. Still, Duoduo wasn’t entirely wrong; concentrating superior forces to deal with the Xue family army was a sound idea. What he didn’t know, however, was that the Qing army attacking the Ming had already become a pack of stray dogs, too preoccupied with their own survival.

“What’s going on?” Huangfu Ye asked in a low voice. One look at An Chuhuai’s expression, and he knew something was wrong.

“So, son, did you find anything you liked?” Lie Yan was dubious that his son could find any treasure in this pile of so-called scrap metal.

Meanwhile, hidden above, Lu Fei and the other Dragon Fang special ops members were struggling to stifle their laughter.

Driven by curiosity, Huang Ying’er took out her phone, intent on photographing the evidence before questioning Ma Jun later.

It seemed that the whereabouts of these two senior managers from the Tianxia Organization were extremely mysterious and difficult to uncover.

“We’ve all met now, and nobody seems to have any objections. So let’s settle it,” Li Xiulu declared, answering his own question. His determination was unmistakable to everyone present, leaving no room for further discussion.

Half an hour later, after breakfast, the soldiers of the Dagger Battalion had all assembled.

The atmosphere was now at its peak, the venue boiling with excitement as the celebration reached its climax. Today’s most anticipated awards—the Grand Prize for Best Sound Source and the Album Award—would soon be announced.

The two of them entered the supermarket. Rows of white fluorescent lights shone overhead, while the polished tiles at their feet reflected their images. Even the air itself carried a subtle, fresh fragrance.

Upon hearing about a dead person, Jiang Ninger gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, staring in disbelief at Chu Xuan before her.