Chapter Ninety-One: Awkwardness

It leaked out.

He knew better than anyone what kind of man Jin Yuan was. The scene of that man swaggering into his father’s office that day was still vivid in his mind.

Someone who had been drinking was flushed and thoroughly displeased, making a drunken spectacle of himself everywhere he went.

The group of fair-weather friends staggering along behind him did not dare let this young master wander about as he pleased. The people standing there, whoever they might offend, were not ones they could afford to cross.

“Come on, young master, for heaven’s sake, don’t keep swaying around here. These are all people our little gang can’t afford to offend. If we hadn’t saved up our pocket money for two weeks, who would dare come to a place this lavish just to have fun?”

Wasn’t it all because An Jingxiao had recently...

It was also the enveloping force that kept their spiritual consciousness unharmed; otherwise, it would likely have long since been frozen solid.

The Wandering Daoist only made a promise: the power of the fifth array foundation would never be inferior to the other four.

After that, she took the initiative to push Lin Tian down onto the bed, wanting to make amends for her mistake in another way.

Only when dawn broke did Lin Feng finally emerge satisfied, only to find his wife standing beneath the corridor, staring at him without blinking, as though a mother were looking at her son.

Han Xiaoxiao was resting in the living room when she looked up and saw the tall, long-legged man stride in. He glanced at her, then around the room, his handsome face seeming faintly disappointed.

This farm not only offered fishing, but would also, for an extra fee, prepare the fish for you. So Mu Lili and Ling Feng enjoyed a full feast of fish: fried fish, grilled fish, and fish soup.

“You...” Han Jiani was utterly humiliated. She had never been rejected like this by a man before.

After Wang Ye ascended the throne, Cambodia grew stronger and stronger, which was certainly no good thing for the Kingdom of Mengla.

In the ancient times of the Great Xia, during the feudal dynasties, emperors always allowed their ministers to compete to a certain extent. By the Ming era, institutions such as the Embroidered Uniform Guard had even been established, ruling the realm through a system of household retainers.

As the creator, Shi Liqing was also a player, so there was a very good chance he would not personally move against players. Thus, the game had simply created subordinates belonging to the creator to carry out the slaughter of players.

Movie and television companies had already noticed this obscure account, which in just a few days had climbed to more than six hundred thousand followers.

However, the call only met with a busy signal. Meng Ruoyu was probably rehearsing backstage and had not noticed it.

Li Tugaai waved a hand and said, “Then it’s settled. One hundred fifty thousand.” With that, he called Bank President Sun and finalized the matter.

“Ding Xi, are you damn deaf!” Karaka roared, enraged by Ding Xi’s disregard.

Huangfu Hantou’s face was grave. Several profound intentions intertwined within her, especially that one invincible intent. Those who possessed such intent had always been supremely confident, fearless in advance, and righteous to the core.

Taking the water, Erma carefully looked Xiaoxue over again and noticed that she had become even fairer. Perhaps it was because she had been sitting indoors for too long; compared with the way she had looked last year when they went into the mountains to pick wild fruit, she was now even more alluring.

“Ha, it’s fine. Follow behind me. I’d like to see who has the nerve for this!” Gao Xing said with a smile.

Apart from Qin Yu casually posting a message on Microblog, there were also local news reports and a stream of paperwork uploaded online, all proving that real work had been done—not just empty talk.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Hua Mulan was still as graceful and elusive as a butterfly among flowers. This time, she even drew the heavy sword she rarely unsheathed from her back. The sword, half a person tall, was swung by her disproportionately slender arms with such speed that it formed an impenetrable web. Any pure-blooded demon kind who dared approach her would be left torn into a heap of shattered corpses.

Only when Ji Yueyao’s car had completely vanished from sight did the middle-aged man suddenly come to his senses.

Although HP depletion would not kill one outright, it would utterly rob one of the ability to act, plunging them into a near-death state.

It was the sword intent he had mastered after slaughtering countless demons and monsters during that hundred-year ordeal, one that felt as though he had lived through it himself.

This top-ranked cultivator of the nation had no airs at all, and like both a teacher and a friend, he had taken him wandering from south to north and east to west, doing those things that would only ever appear in strange tales.