Chapter Eleven: A Microcosm of the Revival of Chinese Higher Education in the Early Reform Era

Voices of argument circled around the kerosene lamp, while outside in the alley, the occasional jingle of a bicycle bell startled the sparrows nesting under the eaves into flight.

Jiang He stared at Xu Chengjun’s poem, his finger tracing the character for “light.” “It’s not that I oppose his poetry; I’m just afraid he can’t hold the stage. The editorial board needs to finalize the manuscript, to take responsibility. He’s only twenty…”

“So what if he’s twenty?”

“Who hasn’t been in their twenties? How much older is Gu Cheng than him?”

Beidao interrupted him, “We…”

Although Hua Qingyan had learned from Yu Jiamin about the hardships of the people in Jinzhou Prefecture, it was only upon seeing it with her own eyes that she realized how utterly inadequate her previous imagination had been; it was nothing like she had assumed.

Yang Yi drew the pistol from his waist, pressed it against his abdomen, took several deep breaths, clenched his teeth, and fired.

For nearly a week afterward, Wen Yang followed Yin He’s advice and moved about with bodyguards, which made Tang Song constantly joke that Wen Yang was acting like a big shot.

Xue Chenyang must have been angry at the time, but afterward, he quietly purchased even finer porcelain. Amber once asked him why—why buy such expensive items when it would be such a pity to break them?

Afterward, Xue Sha did not take Mo Ran back to the palace but instead wandered the city with him for a long time. He almost gave Mo Ran a full tour to understand how the demons cultivated and what resources they had.

At that moment, kind-hearted villagers hurried directly to the nearest clinic. The two people surrounded by the crowd looked somewhat helpless but showed no sign of guilt or evasiveness. Yu Jiamin placed the child on the bench where they had been resting. Fortunately, the bench was wide, and the child was small, just enough to lie down comfortably.

But that was two months later. What Hua Shanmin had to do now was to lead his men to capture Hua Xi.

Saying this, Zhao Jiang picked up the suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair and, accompanied by two bodyguards, left the private room.

He made a gesture as if slitting his throat, rolled his eyes, and stuck out his tongue, giving off a mischievous air.

The VIP private room resembled that of an exclusive clubhouse, lavishly decorated, but the air conditioning was set extremely low. Combined with dim lighting, it created a chilling and eerie atmosphere, utterly devoid of any sense of entertainment.

However, they were probably a step too late. That day, Zuo was terrifyingly formidable. After Jiao Jiao forcibly broke out of the illusion, Zuo spread his hands expressionlessly; the space rippled and transformed into a vast dark river that encircled from above, sealing all of Jiao Jiao’s escape routes, continuously swallowing and spreading inward.

The story’s beginning was unlike typical palace dramas, which start with grand distant views of the royal hall; instead, it opened in a steaming kitchen.

She had confronted Filia about this as soon as she learned Bai Qianchi had been kidnapped, but at the time, Filia denied it.

Compared to the time when her mother passed away, when Gu Lanzhi had suddenly risen to prominence and her status had changed drastically overnight, facing these matters now was far less difficult to endure.

Lu Qiyi intended to personally forge a star force, thereby strengthening the influential public opinion he valued most.

No one saw it, but Chen Fengyun appeared to be walking, yet beneath his feet, a pulse of earth energy supported him, keeping him hovering about three inches above the ground rather than touching it.

Yet, after taking aim, Bai Qianchi hesitated to fire, her face showing a strange and complex expression.

From Zhao Wan’er’s words, it was known that Donghai Prefecture was understaffed, and Zhu Zhirong even entertained the idea of human trafficking.

Pang Xie had eaten just a little, focusing most of his energy on the castle. He was certain that this was indeed the secret realm of the ancient fortress, but he had no idea why he had encountered Mr. Pierre here.

Qin Yibai’s somewhat mystical and utterly unserious words made the Immortal Emperor feel awkward. When in his life had anyone ever spoken to him like that? Who would dare? Yet now, hearing it from Qin Yibai’s mouth, it felt oddly endearing amid the embarrassment.