Chapter 67: Cultivating Your Versatility

Julie knelt, pleading, “Sister, I… I don’t want to…”

“This opportunity wasn’t easily won either. As long as you do your part well… Forget it. It’s only thirty minutes. Think about it carefully.”

Julie clenched her fists in unwillingness. What could she do? She was out of options.

…

My gaze remained fixed on the face of that drunkard as I lowered my voice to answer once more.

“General, according to our informant’s report, the Celestial Empire’s military detachment has already stationed itself at the Shamsi Air Base as of yesterday,” the subordinate dressed in traditional Afghan robes and carrying an AK-47 said gravely.

“Long live! Long live!” Two hundred and fifty thousand soldiers roared at the conclusion of Wang Zhenyu’s speech, their voices hoarse, the scene ablaze with unprecedented fervor.

Thus, not a single soldier of the New Beiyang Army moved. They knew that only by not resisting might they have a sliver of survival; following Liang Shiyi would be a path straight to death. They had just witnessed the overwhelming firepower of the Southern Army.

“What?!” The man and the monkey were utterly stunned by Guiguzi’s words in that instant.

In her final moments in this world, Ba Ji Lulu’s eyes still lingered longingly on the white warship. Amidst the swirling torrents of light, she thought her proudest days were not those spent in the captain’s chair, but on another ship, aiding that unreliable yet ever-upright captain.

Xu Yuanxing held his bow in his left hand, already poised to draw, while his right hand fumbled at his waist, unfastening the Zi Dian sword that Yan Ming had handed him earlier, placing the end of the hilt against the bowstring.

Though Churchill and Chamberlain often clashed on economic policy, they shared much common ground regarding Far Eastern affairs. Churchill had spent considerable time in the Far East, so Chamberlain frequently consulted him on these matters.

Yet the spectators burst into loud applause. With powerful backers, the Star-Picking Pavilion naturally harbored plenty of arrogance, and they were no strangers to bullying neighbors, extortion, or forced transactions.

Such things should wait until after marriage and the wedding night—how could they be indulged in these cold, damp corridors?

If Brother Kui came looking for Manager Zheng, Jiang Haoran intended to pay it no mind; at most he’d have a couple of drinks and leave, since he barely knew Manager Zheng anyway.

A flash of joy appeared on Ren Fengyu’s face, yet his heart was heavy with bitterness. If Xiahua Group was drawn in, and by some stroke of luck Tianlong Group survived, it would be gravely weakened, and Xiahua Group would inevitably be affected as well—an outcome he dreaded most.

Leng Yan’s usual icy demeanor now bore a faint, subtle smile, lending her an air of elegant grace. For a moment, the many journalists below stared in a daze.

The wound was not visible, but the pants around it were stained a deep red. The bleeding had lessened but still oozed out. With no medical tools or even scissors, to examine Jiang Haoran’s injury, they would have to cut open the fabric around the wound.

“Hahaha, what a character! Hahahaha! Xiyi, where did you even find this treasure?” Deng Meiji was laughing so hard she couldn’t straighten up.

Usually gentle and amiable, Moonfall Plume now appeared so unyielding, her face set with a cold, resolute indifference.

“Lord of Chaos, you’re courting death!” An angry roar erupted from the tallest, central building. A beam of white light shot into the sky, while six long blades tore through the air, converging overhead.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Xing Feng asked with some dissatisfaction—everyone had been assigned a task, but his Fierce Tiger Hall had none.