Volume One, Chapter Thirty-six: The Arrest—Who Was the Informant?

Armed police instantly surrounded the group, Zhang Zhu glaring unwillingly at the cellar, watching as several people pried open the wooden boards.

His eyes were bloodshot.

“Wretched woman, this is all your fault!”

The god paused in silence, then nodded, coming to the edge of the palace, overlooking the world below the nine heavens. His gaze pierced thousands of miles, witnessing the events unfolding on earth.

“Senior Gu, I hope that one day we will meet again,” Xing Luo murmured inwardly, slowly closing the double doors of the room. With a soft creak, a solitary drama, sealed for three hundred years, was drawn to its close.

“Get out!” Chen Bingwen spat coldly, then closed her eyes, saying nothing more as she rested.

Here, there were mountains and water. Although Shen Mo knew little of the art of geomancy, he could still sense the auspiciousness of this place.

Lu Bu glanced again at the eager Ma Chao and smiled faintly. “Mengqi, you’ll take charge of the right wing, with Wei Xu and Guan Hai as your deputies. Lead thirty-five thousand cavalrymen. Wait for my signal.” Overjoyed, Ma Chao nodded in assent and hurried off to muster his troops.

Lu Bu’s strategy was clearly sound. When he instructed the staff officers to draw up a detailed battle plan, all the strategists sang his praises—not out of flattery, but genuine admiration. If the enemy truly acted as Lu Bu expected, the outcome of the war was already decided.

“Zhu Kai, you’re still pretending. Today, I’ll expose your true face,” Wang Hu said coldly.

And so, he could only sit by the stream and gaze into the distance. The floating bridge became an eternal chasm between himself and the flowering woods. He counted the days, and with them, his hopes.

Wei Xieyang, as a state-owned enterprise director, withdrew for similar reasons. The remaining bidders were Fang Qingqing, Zhu Xiangdong, Jiang Mingshen, and Cheng Mingdao. Of course, the possibility remained that an unexpected competitor might appear midway.

After a whole night’s toil, they finally finished laying the foundation for fifteen brothers. Ye Ziluo was so exhausted his face turned pale; were it not for the crystal in his hand continuously channeling spiritual energy, he would have collapsed long ago.

She still had plastic sheeting and the like, and could set up a few vegetable greenhouses on the estate. The task of teaching others was left to the amateur gardener, while she merely wondered whether, when she returned in winter, she might finally taste fresh vegetables. But that was a thought for another time.

Ling Xing tossed her phone carelessly onto the bed, stepped outside, and found Yuri already up, sitting in the main hall watching television.

In ancient times, the images of exceptional athletes, great heroes, and mysterious deities were often intertwined in people’s minds. Today, these leading figures seem to have returned to an era brimming with passion and glory.

This time, Golandis did not intervene to heal, but only sighed softly and traced a cross over her chest.

Drawing closer, Ming Si’s breathing grew more rapid and audible. Not hearing a reply, Rong Jun sensed something was wrong.

“Why are you still looking at me? The six of us act as one, always united, never divided,” Amia nodded vigorously.

Raymond was momentarily startled and dodged aside, but the Thunder Dragon shifted course in midair and crashed into him with brute force.

The next instant, a scroll was hurled, and above the flying dragon’s head appeared a rapidly dwindling health bar.

The PD slowly explained the situation to everyone, sparking lively discussion and wild guesses as to who the guest might be.

The PD nodded, “Hehe, that’s right—Ling Xingxi was correct~” Three black lines appeared on the back of Ling Xing’s head. This task was designed to attract animosity; imagine being woken up early in the morning from a sound sleep—most people would be quite annoyed, wouldn’t they?