Volume 1, Chapter 43: The Disappearing Woman (22)

Looking at once bewildered and deeply concerned, I glanced back toward the room before finally agreeing, though I made a special point of insisting that my mother had to come with me.

Not long after the dual layers of light barriers were established, influenced by two contrasting voices and attitudes, a thick outer wall embedded with supplementary spell protections was constructed within the Neutral City between the urban area and the barrier, stretching horizontally across the entire city from east to west.

Whether it was the Ancestral Witch Houtu or Zhenyuanzi, both maintained a remarkable tacit understanding, carefully avoiding any mention of an alliance so as to prevent mutual awkwardness. This was purely a transaction, a business deal stripped of any other motives, and that alone was sufficient.

Before the Great Dao of Destruction, the nascent spiritual consciousness newly born from the origin of the Paradise of Ultimate Bliss trembled with dread at the sheer might of that destruction. After all, this was an existence capable of obliterating it entirely; how could it not feel overwhelming fear and recoil in terror?

Consequential failures piled up, becoming something they could barely endure. Consequently, for the players of the San Antonio Spurs, even though they were undoubtedly destined to be the underdogs in this playoff series, they had no intention of surrendering the series because of it.

"Sigh, what choice did I really have?" Lin Tiansheng scratched the back of his head, then cast an apologetic glance at Gong Wei and Liu Bing standing beside him.

As for this red regime, it was presently a machine yet to be properly broken in, requiring no new spare parts from us. We only needed to supply a tiny drop of lubricating oil, and the machinery would roar into high-speed operation.

Guo Zhuocheng smiled faintly and applied a bit more pressure. Tang Dinghuai, overwhelmed by pain, had no choice but to twist his body, allowing Guo Zhuocheng to bend his arm firmly behind his back.

Inevitably, he had to circulate the cycle of life and death, solidifying his emotions and fluctuations of intent to ensure his purpose betrayed no anomaly that might alert the two hidden observers.

Just as the Space-Seizing Hand belonged to the category of palm techniques, the Lion-Tiger Roar fell under sonic martial skills, the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons and the Traceless Steps were movement arts, while the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Energy and the Soul-Devouring Skill were internal kung fu.

Before Zhang Muching could finish her sentence, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, silencing whatever else she wanted to say. The weight of Zhang Muching in my heart was self-evident; even if I were merely the owner of a modest bar, let alone if I became the most dazzling figure in all of Central China, my devotion to her would remain utterly unwavering.

"Damn it, babe, why are we both time-travelers, yet our fates are so vastly different? Look at how lucky you are, pampered by your family, while I still have to put up with their grievances. It's just so unfair!" Hearing how unpopular the original owner of this body had been, Luo Yiyi could not help but grumble a few curses in frustration.

"And you call yourselves people working at the post station? How can you have such abysmal manners?" Today, Ning Baobei was dead set on locking horns with the lot of them.

As she spoke, her mouth trembled, and suddenly she pulled her knees to her chest, squatted down, and burst into bitter tears.

"It's not dull at all; reading the newspaper and tending to flowers and plants makes the days fly by. Though, if I could have a great-grandson to dote on, life would be even more vibrant." Lei Shaotang cast a meaningful glance at her and said softly.

The so-called "raw-edge rim," known colloquially among folk artisans as the "rough-edged," refers to the exposed body where the glaze along the rim was intentionally wiped away before entering the kiln. It was the exclusive hallmark of a famous ancient kiln, and upon its inception, the technique sparked intense debate across the imperial court and the common populace alike, with critics arguing not only that it lacked refinement, but also that the unglazed rim felt uncomfortably rough against the lips during drinking.

She had even made a pact with Qin Yan: ten years later, he would return to find her, and they would remain the dearest of friends.

Before his voice had even faded, seizing the opening of his speech, Wanyan Yong vaulted forward. A guard deftly raised his sword, blocking the bow with a brilliant flash of steel. Seizing the momentum, Wanyan Yong surged ahead, the bowstring tangling around the supple sword. With a cold sneer, the guard jerked the blade backward in a swift, sharp retreat.