Chapter Seventy-Seven: Commemorating This Reunion

After Ling Qiqi had exhausted all her daily quota of frailty, Ming Shuang, the confidant brother, finally set out to search for his missing fiancée, the young master. Ming Shuang led Ling Qiqi in circles nearby, muttering, “The young master should be with Cheng Yu, but now both of them are gone.”

Ling Qiqi’s eyes darted at his words, recalling that when she hurried from the edge of the woods to find her senior brother, she seemed to have seen two people with a balloon slowly flying overhead. The young girl, lucky enough to witness the secret transport, hesitated for a moment before deciding to offer her brother a clue, and just so, she could give Chi Xiaoxiao a hard time as well.

Ling Qiqi spoke, “When I rushed over from the edge of the woods to find you, I think I saw Chi Xiaoxiao flying with Cheng Yu and Kong Mingzi…”

Such an action would have been accomplished in an instant in the past, but in this moment, Qiu Xuan finally understood what it meant to have the will but not the strength. Enduring a wrenching pain, Qiu Xuan forced himself to calm his mind, quietly adjusting his breath. All the strength within him began to circulate.

Indeed, she feared Qin Muchen and An Xinyan being together, because if they were, she would let go, she would leave, she would escape to another place once again.

In a certain region, secret acquisitions of numerous pig farms had been made, and the annual number of live pigs processed under their control reached several million.

Thinking about the profound mysteries of those twelve formations, though he still could not grasp even a sliver of their secrets, the position of each star point had long since been branded into his soul.

As for Liu Hang, he had already crossed a threshold in cultivation; at this moment, he was a peerless master in the true sense. So, just as the Elder of Tianshan needed no second strike to kill, he took only a second to end Ruan Da’s life.

Career was obviously just an excuse; Fang Zhuyun received love letters as often as she did requests for help. Fang Zhuyun tried to read every plea for help, but at this point she required others to filter them—after all, hundreds came in daily, and that was considered few. As for love letters, she tossed them straight into the trash.

Qiu Xuan frowned. They went to the Longevity Pavilion to buy medicinal herbs? Qiu Xuan asked, “Do you know how much medicine they bought, and what kinds? Are you clear about this?” He wondered silently if perhaps Utrede was injured, and that’s why they went to buy herbs.

She looked out the window, and the car nearby caught her eye—it was Qin Muchen! Had he followed her here? An Nianchu was unsure and withdrew her gaze, looking down at her own ankle. The piercing pain reminded her more keenly of what had happened before.

“Emperor Song! It seems you truly are old. Limited by your talent, this is your ceiling. Unless you too become a ghost, you will never defeat me!” Zhong Qingyang was already dominating the offense and defense against Yu An.

An Nianchu decided to play her role to the end, ignoring Qin Muchen’s words but still pouting.

Having settled his role, Wu Lie went back to pack, leaving only Chen Yuanyuan and Yang Ming in the private room.

This matter stumped the Kaifeng Prefecture. Wang Han was of noble lineage, and Zhao Shize had come personally for verification. The neighbors on both sides, seeing Zhao Shize, all said he and Wang Han were cut from the same mold—both father and son broad-shouldered and imposing.

Zhang Manhua smiled as she kneaded the dough in her hands; she could mould it into any shape she wished, and there was nothing she couldn’t create if she set her mind to it.

Gentle and virtuous Gu Peiyi could hardly compete with bold and fiery Xiao Jingya. With a sweep of Xiao Jingya’s arm, Gu Peiyi toppled onto the sofa, her head hitting the wooden armrest, pain biting so deep she clenched her teeth and stifled a groan.

However, the man before her wore a blue suit, his tall figure and softly curled brown hair seemed to favor Xiao Xin.

Those three words, spoken one by one from Shen Xi’s lips, sliced into Mu Qingze’s heart like a knife, but he could do nothing.

Perhaps the sun was too harsh, or perhaps her constitution was always frail; she hadn’t fully recovered from her last miscarriage, and now she was pregnant again. This was a stroke of luck that many envied, but it left her body even weaker, laying down a root of illness.