Chapter 77: The One Being Scolded Is You

Li Wanbai spoke lightly, but her mind was preoccupied with the matter, to the point that even in her dreams she would see a distorted version of herself, knife in hand, repeatedly stabbing Yu Baichuan and Su Chengzi, startling herself awake in the middle of the night.

The direct consequence of her poor sleep was the obvious dark circles beneath her eyes.

A week later, when Yu Baichuan saw Li Wanbai again, he couldn't help but frown and said softly, "I was only gone for a short while, how did you end up—"

"Huo Lingfeng? I want to ask you for a favor!" For the first time, Zhuang Qingqing's gaze was so earnest and profound as she turned to look at Huo Lingfeng.

She knocked on the gnarled knots of the tree, chiseled through the decayed wood, deftly plucking out the wriggling larvae, devouring every worm and pest that infested the trunk.

"Lin Fei, are you not man enough to admit what you've done? Just now you pinned me to the ground, desperately trying to do something utterly disgraceful—now you want to pretend it never happened?" Liu Qing's eyes were wide, her tone righteous and severe.

Flesh rolled back, and blood surged swiftly from the gash and the blade's edge, soaking his trousers a deep red.

"Don't you think I'm especially good-looking!" Yang Qing said with grave seriousness, showing not a hint of jest.

This was his first time encountering an assassin trained through secret methods, though he'd gleaned some knowledge from Huang Tian.

As they breathed in, it felt as if all their accumulated exhaustion vanished; Xiao Ran couldn't help but step forward, eyes closed in rapture.

With a dull thud, far off, Tu Mukhan felt his entire body go cold, his mind blackening, suffocated as if even breathing had become impossible.

Shen Weiwei hurriedly paid and thanked the driver. As she stepped into the bar, the dazzling lights and pounding music overwhelmed her senses for a moment.

Liang Zhen and the others, all seasoned veterans from the battlefield, now spoke with a chilling intent to kill.

Huo Xiangkong was a man of action—when he had an idea, he put it into practice. He found a block of wood and began carving the image of the Monkey King himself. As for the model, he'd seen it before when choosing his faith, so there was nothing to worry about.

Green Dee—he closed his eyes in deep pain. That night was sleepless for him and a nightmare for Xiang Qinglan.

The working style of Quliu Town was a reflection of Chen Dongjiang's approach, but with Chen Dongjiang's departure, how long that style would endure was uncertain. Wang Peng didn't mind; having worked with Qiu Qiang for six months, he had some understanding of his methods—it shouldn’t be an issue.

Wang Peng nearly spat blood. She saw through it that easily? "Trying to fool me?" He wasn’t about to fall for it.

The teacup was beautiful: white with blue glaze, inlaid with golden copper filigree. Each cost six yuan, and a box of Tieguanyin with a set of tea ware had already exhausted Yang Shaozong’s salary for September.

So now, Wang Peng, responsible for agriculture, was sent together with Cai Guangliang to see Director Zheng. Was it really just to help them coordinate and make the work go more smoothly?

Every day he muttered to himself—if he even lost that, he’d truly become withdrawn.

These people, too, wore solemn expressions and impeccable attire, lined up on both sides as if conducting some grave discussion.

Yet, it was even more wondrous than the marine pavilion. Fish swam all around, yet if you reached out to catch them, you would grasp nothing—not even feel water. It was as if everything you saw was just an illusion conjured by the environment.

He hadn't expected it, but he didn't have to wait long before they gave him a chance, bringing his plans forward by several days.

Tang Ning'an took the dishes from the kitchen and heated them in the microwave. From time to time, she stole glances at Ningning, convinced that Ningning somehow knew about what had happened last night, though that feeling struck her as oddly inexplicable.

The man felt as if countless mountains were pressing down on him, sending his blood and energy surging, his inner power flooding madly into his hands, transforming into a barrier of light to withstand the force of those four punches.