Volume 1, Chapter 29: The Plot Has Changed

Gu Yan cast a sidelong glance at his foolish son and fell into deep contemplation. Spending so much time with Cha Cha, they would inevitably find out sooner or later.

Back when old Mr. Zhang was still alive, the Zhang family had been kind to everyone; Liu Ping, however, was petty and calculating. Out of respect for the late Mr. Zhang, people had never held it against their family.

In his established setting, his cultivation was low and his talent mediocre, so he was always looked down upon. Moreover, having such a wonderful Dao companion made others jealous, leading them to cause trouble for him at every turn.

Li Xiao let out a long sigh, rubbed his aching shoulders, and a smile of exhaustion yet satisfaction appeared on his face.

This would be absolutely impossible for someone with three spiritual roots, but he possessed heavenly spiritual roots—or rather, he did not need to cultivate at all. He simply needed to be filled by Chang Shuangqing, and that would be enough to propel him to the seventh level.

"Further differentiation," "individual contracting," and "land privatization" were not terms an ordinary farmer would use.

"Chu Nanli, if you manage to survive, perhaps we can talk again!" Having said this, Li Zhen slowly stepped backward.

He no longer held any anger toward Li Zhen; those feelings had long since faded with the passage of time.

The outer sect disciples began to sneer and mock, though it was unclear whether they were jealous of Ling Bai’s opportunity or truly concerned for the sect.

By the time Du Fengmang finally managed to kill all one hundred phantoms, he was gasping for breath, utterly exhausted.

His gaze darted back and forth between the rapidly approaching cavalry and Jiang Shijie, his Adam’s apple bobbing continuously.

Song Fei stopped in her tracks, looking at Zhong Shimu’s face, her eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and a hint of dread.

Liu Bai patted Blackie’s hindquarters and stopped nagging. That sense of unease was drawing closer; every cell in his body seemed to be sending out a strange signal, urging him to leave.

Time is a marvelous thing; it changes us before we even realize it. Just a moment ago, he had been shrouded in the night—much like human life itself, where sometimes there seems to be no hope for the future, yet who can predict when the darkness will lift in the very next hour?

He no longer knew how long he had been walking through this desert. Here, time and space seemed blurred, as if he were in a dream from which he could simply not wake up.

Still, it was better than being tossed aside. Just imagine if this had happened while falling from a helicopter at an altitude of several hundred meters—there wouldn't even be a whole body left! The thought sent a chill down his spine.

When Luo Bei used to drink, he would say that vegetables were the best accompaniment to alcohol, especially peanuts, though there were no peanuts to be found here.

Yuan Mochen was exceptionally clever and naturally understood that the Empress Dowager’s claim of the treasure being stolen was, in all likelihood, a ruse. Therefore, he had his death squads sacrifice themselves; since the "culprit" had been brought to justice, it naturally dispelled the Empress Dowager’s desire to investigate further.

Soldiers continuously descended from the helicopter ropes, seizing buildings on every street and beginning a thorough clearing and sweep of each block.

The soldiers trembled slightly; even though they had experienced true bloodshed, they still felt a sense of dread when facing the unknown.

She still had her back to him; he could not see her expression, let alone guess her thoughts. Yet, the way she had fled just now—faster than if she were dodging a venomous snake or a wild beast—made his heart turn cold in an instant.

Before long, the voice of the host, Wang Weimei from the public relations department, echoed through the venue.

There is truth in the saying that things turn into their opposites when they reach an extreme. If you cup a handful of water, the tighter you squeeze, the less water remains. Thus, all things in nature should follow the path of letting things take their course; one must not be too persistent, for deep affection may not endure, and obsession is of no benefit.

Upon entering the room, she followed her usual routine of opening the curtains to look down at him from the window. After receiving her message that she had arrived, he looked up at her window, waved in her direction, and then started his car to merge into the flow of traffic on the street.