Volume 1, Chapter 45: Vie for Favor and Jealousy

Time flew by swiftly, and as the eight days passed, the day of the Grand Poetry Exhibition finally arrived.

Today, Shen Qi'er had meticulously dressed herself in a light pink translucent gauze gown, with white ribbons draped gracefully around her wrists, fluttering softly against the breeze.

Xiao Mei’s eyes sparkled as her voice carried a hint of envy that even she herself had not noticed, "Miss Shen, you look like a heavenly maiden descended to mortal realms today, unlike that faded and dowdy Jiang woman."

The driver, who had been pretending to remain calm just moments before, suddenly grew tense upon seeing the armed police inspecting the engine. With a sudden burst of movement, he struck the nearby anti-narcotics officer, snatched the pistol from the officer's waist, and bolted away at full speed.

Even as he issued the warning, he had already given the order for a full-scale assault. Although he guessed that Conqueror’s people probably wouldn't be so heedless of the bigger picture as to hold him back at a time like this, the corner of his eye still remained fixed on the vicinity of Conqueror Butcher.

If this man were left alive, he would continue to cause trouble for him in the future and bring danger to those around him.

Pusala was not foolish; he was a cultivator who understood when to retreat in the face of difficulties. Confronted with such a situation, Pusala still knew how to prioritize the greater good, even though being called a castaway of the Buddhist sect was the one thing he loathed hearing more than anything else in his life.

It was common knowledge that the members of the Tyrant Club—meaning every single tyrant—were peerless geniuses within their respective fields of expertise.

Zhang Ji lowered his gun, and Xu Jianglun gave a light chuckle, gesturing toward the floor with his other hand, "Sit. It may not be an elegant place, but it will have to do." Without a word, Zhang Ji sat cross-legged on the ground, keeping a distance of two meters from them.

"Wait, come with me to the interrogation room. We will interrogate Kelly ourselves," said Qin Minghui.

The tense standoff persisted until dusk, when some progress was finally made. The negotiator used the excuse that shouting through the glass was too exhausting and requested to speak right by the door, separated only by the barrier. The hostage-takers, having shouted all day, were already hoarse and had no choice but to agree.

Herulim had already spotted those twelve paintings on the ground earlier. He gazed at them, his brow involuntarily furrowing into a knot as deep thoughts seemed to churn within his mind.

At that moment, Qian Cheng finally caught sight of the ranged team from Overlord the World, especially the figure of Conqueror Butcher, who stood out most clearly—after all, who else would wear a suit of flamboyant, glaring red armor?

A faint sense of disappointment washed over the young man. He had traveled all the way to Chang'an through countless hardships for this rare chance to see her, yet her mind was entirely occupied with instructing him on how to "advance his status."

"Xun Zhou, you bastard! It's just eighty yuan more, what are you arguing about? Are you looking down on me?!" Tie Zhu was displeased. It was rare enough that he wanted to treat them to a meal, yet someone still had to argue with him over it?

"I know you are in Switzerland! But where in Switzerland are you? I have already contacted the Ministry of Foreign Affairs so that our ambassador stationed in Switzerland can reach you immediately!" Lu Hao's tone was urgent and grave.

Although Zhu Youxiao had harbored beautiful fantasies, trouble struck at their very first stop. The trouble wasn't something they sought out, but rather something deliberately provoked by others—colloquially speaking, they were looking for trouble and intended to extort them.

Kaiyang sighed softly, gazing at her profile. The back of his hand remained resting against her back, gently patting her, as he wondered if he was truly being securely reeled in by Han Jiayu.

Li Jingjing sat quietly, dressed in a single layer of thin clothing with his hair disheveled. He had been drinking, and his person carried the mingled scents of blood and wine.

Nie Rong likewise sat before the stove, occasionally feeding firewood into the hearth and using the fan in his hand to fan the flames, earnestly brewing herbal medicine for Qin Meiniang.

They conversed in the darkness, unable to see each other's faces, while Mogen simply struck his flint, spark by spark.

Though he harbored countless doubts within his heart, he chose not to probe into them. Like a true friend, he simply accompanied Leng Yue in silence.

Everyone nodded in succession. It was indeed as they said; since a group of fifty was already large enough that none dared to provoke them, there was no need to recruit so many more. Recruiting a few fewer would make no difference.