Volume One Chapter 83 Biological Parents

Wang Yaoyao ran for quite a distance before she dared to vent the resentment and anger burning within her.
"Ah! Why? Why?"
What right did Shen Ruzhi have, what right indeed?
Wang Yaoyao’s face twisted with fury, her features contorted into a grotesque mask, as if she were a vengeful spirit crawling up from the depths of hell. Jealousy and envy gnawed at her heart.
Shen Ruzhi had found her parents, and her parents turned out to be from the Huo family—this truth hurt more than death itself.
Why was that wretch so blessed by fate?
While Shen Ruzhi prepared tea, Su Manxi quickly took in the room: the furnishings were complete, and seeing the comfortable environment her daughter lived in eased her heart a little.
"Zhi Zhi, I know my little girl has wronged you. I don’t dare ask for your forgiveness, I only hope you won’t..."
Le Yiyang and Mei Jiutong turned around at the same time, holding their breath, anxiety tightening in their chests. The approaching footsteps grew louder, until at last they saw it was Yuan Zhenzhen arriving with two of her junior disciples.
"I shouldn't go with you. Even this is already a grave breach of etiquette..." Xue Baochai’s delicate figure reclined languidly on the bed, her voice soft and low.
Yet the situation on the Central Continent now involved all the efforts and hopes of her own side. If any error were made, as the supreme military commander, she would bear the chief blame. So, upon hearing Di Xiuyuan’s words, she finally felt a measure of relief.
Gao Lian, recognizing danger was upon them, immediately ordered the armored guards to counterattack and eliminate this group of audacious strangers.
Moreover, what embarrassed them further was that though they had intended to comment on the battle, they found themselves at a loss for words. The types of troops and the circumstances involved were already far beyond their knowledge and comprehension.
At the southern city gate, a group of soldiers on duty hunched their necks against the biting cold, listlessly guarding the narrow gap in the gates, harassing and interrogating the occasional citizen who entered or left, both frozen and bored out of their minds.

The director, producer, or sometimes the leading actors themselves would come in person to the midnight screening—sometimes waiting backstage, sometimes mingling among the audience—to observe firsthand the viewers’ reactions.
The key to the barrier wasn’t a literal key, but rather a cruciform spiritual artifact. Yet this artifact was entirely unlike the crosses distributed by the Church.
Seeing their senior brother depart, disciples of the Cangqiong Sect fired arrows in quick succession; dozens of Khitan cavalry at the vanguard fell from their horses, while the rest reined in, dismounted, and charged forward with blades drawn.
"Be honest—when you went back last time, did your father catch you transformed?" Li Yun asked with a smile.
"Alright! I’ll tidy up a bit and build it a nest later." The father, overjoyed, readily agreed.
A striking, bald man dressed in white alchemist’s robes and carrying a medicine chest appeared before Zhunti.
Chi Yingluo hadn’t yet registered what was happening when Zhang Tianle threw himself at her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.
Clearly, Jiang Bufan had only lifted Wei Zhongdao’s visual distortion spell, wanting him to see unmistakably that the person he once struck into the ground was no longer the same Jiang Bufan as before.
Though the classmates maintained a calm facade, the subtle smiles at the corners of their mouths betrayed their true thoughts.
"Forget numbers—even one-on-one, you’re no match for me! Don’t let your size fool you!" Haji was no pushover; he deliberately provoked Blackhead.
The square was set with thirty-two round tables, the rest of the seating arranged in rows—these were occupied by common residents, while the round tables were reserved for the most prominent figures of Lotus Leaf City.
Unexpectedly, Zhang Bo remembered the most, his notes dense and detailed, capturing nearly every word Qin Xiaobai had spoken.
Last time, a slow response to the epidemic led to a massive outbreak and the dismissal of many officials. If they wanted to keep their jobs and reputations, they’d better think carefully before making any decisions.
With a flurry of busy activity, the ships all activated their protective armor plating.

But now her legs had gone weak beneath her, and she was thrown from her horse, crashing hard onto the road, stars bursting before her eyes.
Pain lanced through her chest, her vision clouding. She could only vaguely make out the dagger buried in her chest and the blood gushing forth, dyeing her clothes crimson in an instant.
No matter where she teleported, she could not escape Chu Lingtian’s pursuit. He had already revealed his secrets; how could he let Ling’er slip away? He drove his true essence to its limits, performed the wind-and-fire escape technique to its utmost, and relentlessly manipulated the puppet Cao Qian to steadily erode Ling’er’s own mana.
The black tortoise shook its massive head, a fawning smile spreading across its face as it nodded obsequiously at Liu Xin. Liu Xin rolled her eyes, pulled a few rare fruits grown by the Liwu Temple from her sleeve, and stuffed them into the tortoise’s mouth, then handed one each to Xia Jie and Bai Ye.
Yi Yongheng squatted on the ground, mumbling as if reciting something, eyes half-closed. In fact, his control over the Jiuli Pot had reached an impressive level—he could now store or retrieve items with just a thought, no longer needing to run back and forth.
Alas, the shamans of Dongyi were sensitive only to the fluctuations of shamanic power, completely oblivious to the faint, innate spiritual energy radiating from the ruler. They mocked again, itching to reach out and scrape at the Primitive Daoist’s face with their fingers.
It was almost beyond belief—a director of the Health Bureau, reduced to being beaten in a clinic, and utterly unable to fight back. Several commerce enforcement officers, cowed by Yi Yongheng’s ferocity, dared not approach and instead ran out to call the police.
But by now, it was already too late. At that moment, the demon-refining vessel in Catherine’s hands began to glow, and to the eyes of cultivators at the Divine Split stage, it was as though everyone around them was expanding at a terrifying rate.
Li Hongji revered heroes, and Yuan Chonghuan was nothing less than a hero—the most tragic and heroic in all Chinese history. His wisdom, his courage, his indomitable spirit and wronged, blood-stained soul had once struck Li Hongji to the core. Now, not only would he meet this hero, but he intended to change the fate of this very man.
The man in black armor staggered back a step; Li Fan rolled over and landed beside Qiu Shuang, pulling her—weak as she was—firmly into his embrace.
The swordsman had awakened; though he didn’t know how close the battle just now had come to disaster, seeing the assassin about to be killed, he launched a violent cross-slash, knocking Zhang Ziye flying and successfully saving the assassin.