Chapter Fifty-Seven: Quite an Unusual Hobby

When Fatty Zuo woke up, his eyes were vacant and dull, staring blankly ahead, unresponsive even when called—almost like a block of wood. We propped him up in the grand chair and waved a thick stack of red banknotes before his eyes, but his gaze didn’t so much as flicker. That terrified me; for someone as obsessed with money as Fatty Zuo, to show no reaction to cash—could he have become an imbecile?

I asked Xiao Zi whether there might be something wrong with the antidote to the Jade Nose Paste.

Xiao Zi assured me it was absolutely safe...

Although Deng Chenkun didn’t understand exactly what method Yuan Shuai intended to use to save Hu Feifei’s life, he nodded in full cooperation.

With a rush of heat, Le Piaopiao felt an inferno ignite in her chest, burning so fiercely within that her organs ached unbearably. She had seen him before, several times, but never had her reaction been so intense.

Shu Mei faintly sensed that this man surnamed Li was indeed, as Old Qi had said—not simple. At the very least, his responsiveness was already markedly different from what she’d seen in the street.

She bent down and gently kissed the blade of grass... Baili Bu responded passionately to her kiss, always returning it immediately, entwined and fervent.

“We’ve been walking for a while now; let’s get in the car. We need to leave the city and reach the next town before nightfall, so we’d best hurry,” Lian Zhu mused over the map she’d looked at before getting out, then turned to address everyone.

For instance, if Lian Zhu and her companions went to a restaurant, they wouldn’t argue over seating, especially not in such an unreasonable and boorish manner.

From everyone’s perspective, although the Blood Emperor had acquired the Blood of the Heavenly Dao and thus transcended fate—admittedly a bit of a shortcut—his formidable power made him worthy. But Hong Jun, whose authority surpassed even the Blood Emperor’s, possessed countless treasures, destinies, and other advantages; his chance to transcend was much greater. Most crucially, Hong Jun had a far higher likelihood of escaping that fatal blow.

Yet such a grand princely estate surprised Lian Zhu: the people within were organized in such a simple manner. In a mansion of this size, it was impossible for there to be elders requiring Lian Zhu’s filial respect.

She knew she would never marry him, knew his marriage had nothing to do with her, and yet each time she remembered he had taken Yao Jin as a concubine, Mu Wanqiu still felt a trace of loneliness.

Everyone’s gaze grew vacant, their movements frozen in that instant, as if the world itself had come to a halt. Lei Dong noticed that even Dan and Wang Mingqi—those two mysterious powerhouses—were entirely immersed, frozen in place. The strength of this mysterious figure was beyond imagination.

As they spoke, the crowd of wealthy young men had already surrounded the entrance of the first floor, eyeing Wu Fan and his companion with malicious intent.

Though she said so, Ji Juan felt uncertain, hastily returning to the counter to check the newly issued bank card in Chen Dong’s name.

Moreover, in truth the Tang family couldn’t compare to the Lu family. The Lu family had produced several scholars and even a successful candidate for the imperial examination, now serving in another province.

If the straw was laid just right, an infant lying on this messy bed could remain clean and was unlikely to develop diaper rash.

But unlike Liu Yanxi, Lin Ze had witnessed, firsthand, hero after hero fall victim to political machinations, forced to confront the harsh reality.

The war between immortals and demons was a golden opportunity; Chu Prefecture and Xiong Prefecture, allied with the celestial realm, were sure to lose. Then, she could rescue her brother, eliminate her worthless father, seize complete control of Chu Prefecture, and, with some clever maneuvering, take Xiong Prefecture as well.

Receiving the food, the people of Suhan expressed their gratitude by bowing deeply to Bai Mengdan. Whoever fed them, even a single meal, was regarded as a benefactor of immeasurable grace.

The situation on the other side, however, was far less pleasant. Lin Yi felt his breath gradually stifled by the cold; icy air flooded his lungs, each inhalation provoking a fit of coughing. This was not a good omen.