Chapter 152: Puzzled

Thud, thud, thud! Suddenly, the thunderous sound of galloping hooves echoed outside.

Moments later, a man clad in deep crimson armor, a jeweled sword hanging at his waist, strode in. He bore the imposing presence of a general—stern and proud, his face sun-darkened, a thick beard framing his jaw.

“We pay our respects to General!” came the salute.

At the relay station...

Under the cloak of night, torches lit the way. Retreating with two thousand men was no simple feat. Along the route, five hundred cavalry from Liangzhou coordinated the movement, barking orders and urging the imperial troops hastily gathered en route to quicken their pace. Thankfully, these men had once been centurions in Liangzhou; such command tasks were familiar to them.

After all, these were people bound by fate—those who could not find death, gathered together for centuries or millennia, always surrounded by familiar faces. Familiarity bred an unspoken understanding.

Even if Zuo Wei had selfish tendencies, it was only human. After all, he was no true saint.

Two had to weave through the dense forest in a desperate attempt to break the encirclement, yet escape remained impossible.

To rescue Cheng Shaoyu, a deadly close-quarters battle with the Rong tribe was inevitable—something Cheng Dalei had long sought to avoid. Siege warfare was the Rong’s weakness, but they excelled at open-field combat. Once battle commenced, the cost would be heavy.

“Let them watch, then,” Xu Houlang chuckled, ultimately sparing her as he strode off, long legs carrying him toward his squad.

Shi Shaofeng had yet to act, but Wolfbane and Leopard had already volunteered, taking positions one after another to pin down Ye Luoyun.

More importantly, the surface city on Mars housed very few residents; the vast majority lived underground, sustained by artificial light.

Jinghua wept—truly, tears streamed down his face—though the fiery rain of fireballs scorched the air before his tears could even dampen his cheeks.

A muffled boom rang out as the celestial soul-seizing bell shot through the air, locking onto two fleeing koi fish from afar.

Kikyo hesitated briefly, then stepped forward. She glanced at their seated postures and the round stools—people of this era sat properly, unfamiliar with the strange furniture Kikyo found odd.

Long Shaoyan seemed to have swallowed some wine down the wrong pipe, coughing persistently with no relief. Under the emperor’s furious roar, Long Jinyu sheepishly left the main hall.

In the sleeping chamber, the joy of the empress dowager’s awakening was abruptly frozen by a sudden accusation.

“It doesn’t make much difference either way, so I too have plenty of free time. But for the sake of face, to spare my dear friend Shanshan from worry, and to continue my spiritual exile, I often remain silent, presenting an illusion of being bound by family and career.”

It all began with that old man about to take a penalty shot—if it weren’t for Grandpa Deng’s violent slam dunk stirring painful memories in the old basketball fans, they wouldn’t be so tense.

Light purifies and dissolves all; darkness devours and assimilates all. The former fiercely rejects other energies, while the latter embraces and absorbs them without discrimination.

This was a wholly different experience—the cosmic harmony between innate Yin and Yang, the celestial way intertwined.

Furthermore, Situ Huiying practically deified Lin Yu, flattering him at every turn, unveiling one pose after another.

Yet when writing the last story, Lorin Lang found herself without any genuine material, so she fabricated one. But a fictional tale could not complete the true “ghost register,” meaning these spirits could not reincarnate and were doomed to haunt Lorin Lang endlessly.

Though the reliability of such claims was scant, they still hinted at some truths.

The vast white expanse blurred time, space, and direction. The ground was white, the sky was white—no sense of up or down remained.