Her efforts were utterly worthless in his eyes.

"I don't need any either." Seeing Leah look at him, William said. His family had very strict rules, and at his age, he wasn't allowed to drink at all.

It was now late into the night. Many people outside had already turned off their lights and gone to sleep, and the surrounding environment had grown exceptionally quiet.

"Hiss... If the Lady Zhao before my eyes is truly the person I think she is... Damn, then this gets interesting. Could... could I possibly be the First Emperor of Qin back then?" The moment he thought he might have transmigrated into the First Emperor, Zhao Zheng's eyes instantly burned with heat.

She quickly found the house Lingyun had mentioned, ran up to the door on the left side of the first floor, and began pounding frantically on it.

Immediately after, the eighth bolt of lightning descended. Yan Changlan still met it with the storm, and though the remaining lightning was slightly more than before and he absorbed it with some difficulty, he managed it smoothly.

This felt precisely as though she were painstakingly sculpting a pure, flawless ice statue, only for someone to suddenly dump a basin of colorful paint all over her pristine, crystal-clear creation.

Old Physician Liu shook his head, indicating that he wasn't entirely clear either. Seeing this, Chen Liangsi was deeply puzzled; he couldn't understand why, if the old master didn't believe Ah Pang's words, he hadn't asked Zhuang about the situation after everyone else had left.

Words like those, coming from Mo Yiran's mouth, carried not the slightest hint of praise.

The next day, Mother Chen came early to prepare breakfast. Ever since Xu Zhizhi became pregnant, she was no longer allowed to do household chores. An old servant from the family estate was sent over to handle the housework and breakfast, while Ah Qian took charge of picking up and dropping off Putao. Everything was neatly delegated, which made things much easier for Xu Zhizhi.

Though Shang Yu could not yet be called proficient in psychological warfare, having followed Ye Chen, Wen Yun, and Tang Hua—three individuals with deeply profound and calculating minds—she had unconsciously picked up a great deal through subtle influence.

The people in the hotel, on one hand, had no wish to provoke those burly men, and on the other hand, treated such romantic affairs merely as a joke; naturally, no one stepped forward to intervene.

Between demons and immortals, enmity was absolute from the very beginning. If anyone discovered that Lian Haiping possessed such immortal-emperor divine arts, he would instantly become the target of public criticism for all living beings across the boundless demon realms.

Not only was she consumed by fury, but Gao Fan on the stage was also boiling with rage. He had kindly intended to bestow a high position upon this wench, yet the bitch had opened her mouth greedily wide, demanding to become the sect master? If you become the sect master, why the hell did I struggle and fight so bitterly?

"Everything is prepared." Liu Tian kicked the heavy travel bag at his feet. Inside were thick bundles of cash; with that, forget about handguns, even machine guns and rocket launchers could be bought.

"Boss, they're here again. What should we do?" A waiter in his early twenties hurried over to ask for help.

Two identical tiger beasts, even down to their fur, matched each other completely. Their breathing rhythms fluctuated in unison, with the sole difference being the demonic energy they possessed—which was entirely absent in the clone.

Only when blood flowed and circulated could there be metabolism, generating a continuous cycle of vital life force; only then could it be considered true resurrection.

In the backyard, Bai Qiu, who had finally come to terms with his predicament, wore an expression of utter despair. He never imagined that his arrival at the Xuan Mansion would result in him taking the blame for his old man's past misdeeds.

Mo Ran hurriedly designed another version based on the shape of the butchering knife in Luo Xiaoyong's hand. Now crafted from special materials, she wondered if its offensive power could surpass the one he held.

After about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, the water in the pot began to boil, sending up a billowing mist of white steam.

Murong Che paced continuously from the left side of the cliff wall to the right, and then back from the right to the left, yet he appeared to have found nothing suspicious.

Ouli nodded firmly and immediately led his men away from the courtyard. Seeing Ouli depart, the rest of the people gradually dispersed as well, leaving only Shu Jinhe and Kong Yi behind.

Grandfather said, "There is a matter, but it doesn't need to be done immediately." Thereupon, Grandfather gave detailed instructions to Butcher Ma, telling him to act in a specific way. Butcher Ma nodded repeatedly. The others listened and felt it made sense as well.

Even Fang Yi, who was usually as cool as ice, could not help but breathe rapidly at this moment, her fair face flushed with a brilliant, excited rosy hue.

After summarizing their experiences, the various clans of the human race discovered that only those cultivators who showed promise of attaining true immortal status before the third heavenly tribulation had any hope of surviving the fourth. Such individuals were invariably the true elites of humanity.

Almost the exact moment they retreated, Xiao Jue pinged the Baron Nashor pit. By this time, the enemy's mid-lane second tier tower was already down, leaving only the inhibitor turret. With the enemy present, pushing straight through would hardly be easy; it was far better to go take Baron Nashor.

Hearing that Su Tong was actually going to make a move against Jing Tang, Elder Liu let out an angry roar and spun around, preparing to step in and protect him.

Yet as he walked outward, he pricked up his ears, trying to catch what was being said inside. Even so, during the brief moments it took him to walk out, Luo Sisi only managed to catch fragmented, disconnected words like "Lei Zhenzi," "drunk," and "gone."

"Then let us have a proper duel," Lan Youming said calmly, a solemn weight resting in his tone.

A junior official from the municipal government walked into the office and discovered Song Zuyi's corpse. Only then did everyone realize that Song Zuyi had not shown his face for several days since his departure, and it was evident that he had shot himself that very day after leaving.

In order to hold out longer, Li Ziyuan racked his brains to gather the remaining personnel, fighting and retreating toward the hiding spot of the rear elements. They fell back to the perimeter of the mountain hollow on the hillside, preparing to make a desperate last stand right there so they could drag out the resistance for a bit longer.

Initially, he believed it had been authored by Pang Qingyang, but later he discovered that was not the case; the founder of this Soul Art was an unknown grandmaster.

"If Your Majesty desires a noble consort, you may go to the Chunlan Palace." Murong Zhi's words carried a slight edge of jealousy. Everyone was fighting for justice on behalf of Yang Lian'er, assuming she was the rightful empress. If this truly posed a problem, Murong Zhi would simply let it go.

The glowing orb representing the ultimate divine power hung suspended within Ding Huo's sea of consciousness, completely blank. Ding Huo could glean no information from within it, and he knew this was because his primal force level was insufficient to gain the recognition of a heavenly-tier martial skill.

Prompted by Major General Jishiharu Yoshika, who had rushed personally to Hubei three days after the meeting called by Li Ziyuan, Wang Tieshi mobilized the bulk of his forces. Leaving behind just a single company from the secret service battalion to hold Pingchuan, over six thousand puppet soldiers poured out in full force, surging menacingly toward Qiaokou.