Chapter 73: Aunt

At the very depths of his despair, Shen Jin thought to himself that as long as Lu Qingqing would yield, he would let go of all that had passed between them. But she never did.

"Is there truly no possibility left for us?" After much hesitation, Shen Jin finally voiced the question.

"No," Lu Qingqing replied.

With the support of Deputy Governor Yuan, Xie Qingxi finally had her chance to turn her life around, and Yuan Huanxuan was given the opportunity to become the mayor of Huangshi Town.

As her words faded, Yan Cheng said nothing. Instead, he quietly put on his clothes, fastened each button, and only then turned to face her.

The four of them were all unreconciled in their hearts. They had no desire to apologize to someone they deemed worthless. If not for the police’s insistence, they would never have done so, convinced that such a person was not even worthy to be compared with them.

Shi Feifan opened the treasure inventory again. It was just like the backpack menu in an online game, filled with many slots, though all were empty. At the bottom of the interface was a “Virtue Value,” which read zero.

“Now, it’s time to resolve our own problems…” Yue Li turned her gaze toward the terrified leader of the kidnappers.

The royal palace was a place for nurturing nobility. How could she, all of a sudden, be expected to clean a place not unlike a morgue? That was simply unbearable.

The two were not far apart, and with spiritual power augmenting him, Yuan Hong instantly appeared before Ling Chen, his massive fist, wrapped in earthen-yellow energy, swinging toward Ling Chen.

“He’s a friend of mine, here to stay for a few days—with my father’s permission,” Baekhyun said with a gentle smile.

When they entered, it was always Shi Feifan and Qinglong operating the controls, while Qingyun only watched from the side, never quite grasping the principle behind it all.

It had to be admitted, this was a deeply discouraging outcome. Yet, compared to the setbacks he’d suffered in the dream realm, Nie Feng felt that this hardly counted for anything at all.

She and Quan Feifan were merely using one another; trust was far too precious a word for her—it was not something she’d easily bestow upon another.

Nian Gengyao jerked his chin in the direction of the side room and said, “There’s another one inside. Go and have a look.” Then he went off to find the Fourth Prince.

Though the work was grueling and exhausting, requiring them to rise before dawn and go out no matter the wind or rain, they had no choice.

Qi Feiyang placed both palms flat on the table. “Change,” he said, and when he lifted his hands, a piece of gold, bright and yellow, appeared on the tabletop.

Wherever Ziyangzi and his two companions went, the late-stage Foundation Establishment experts of the Moling Sect scattered in panic. Those who were too slow were either killed or captured. A few, sensing trouble, took to the skies on their swords, only to be intercepted and slain by Daoist Hongji.

After all, it was already late. Given Feng Yun’s temperament, coupled with the fact that she had waited in the palace all day, by now—upon hearing that she’d left the palace—she should have returned to her own Grand Princess’s residence and would never come to the Seventh Princess’s quarters.

If that were the case, perhaps if she reached out her hand, longing for him to pull her up, he would not hesitate this time to grasp it tightly.

Mu Na was somewhat surprised. She had been about to reply, “But all of this is normal,” a response that would not seem so lackadaisical.

Looking at Yuan Zhao, Ji Rushuang felt a tingling numbness run through her body, an involuntary itch stirring in her heart.

“It’s over! It’s all over, this time we’re really finished!” The person in charge was so panicked that he didn’t even bother to grab his clothes, charging straight downstairs.

Otherwise, how would the half-saint of the Fu family have known that Duan Youwei, the half-saint of the Duan clan from the Bibo Celestial Estate, had arrived in the domain of the Qingyun Holy Sect?

In the distance, the old man Liu Zuolin called “Uncle Li” watched as his thunderous full-force strike was easily shattered by the sword light unleashed from the body of the young man in purple robes. For a moment, he could not hide his shock.