Chapter Twenty-Five: The Literary Spirit

This question left young Xu Hengliang completely bewildered. His first reaction was to point at Jiang Wan and exclaim, "She’s meddling! The little fatty already gave it to me, but she won't let me have it."

Jiang Wan stood with her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I won't let you! It’s wrong to snatch things from others. If you do it again, I’ll hit you!"

Young Xu Hengliang was stunned. She dared to threaten him with a beating? He immediately pointed at the elderly man standing before him and commanded, "You, old man, hit her."

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared about such things. But today, perhaps because the two of them had cleared up their misunderstandings, or perhaps because the atmosphere between them was so pleasant, he couldn't help but offer an explanation.

Two days later, the small courtyard was filled with people—Ling Jinxie’s relatives, friends, and fans. Ji Weilong disliked crowds, so even after getting dressed, she refused to go down, choosing instead to sip her drink upstairs.

At this moment, Jiang Yixuan had no time to consider whether doing this would bring a greater crisis to the world or plunge himself into an uncontrollable vortex.

Jiang Fuxuan tossed his napkin into the trash can and, taking the financial newspaper from the table, walked out of the living room.

"Relax your mindset. The upcoming knockout rounds won't take place until after the Spring Festival, so don't put any pressure on yourself for now!" Ren Han smiled.

With his back to the light, Jiang Fuxuan’s features lost their softness, appearing even more stern. His aura, cold as a frozen river, became even more imposing.

Ruan Mianmian reached up to wipe her forehead, only to discover a layer of fine sweat. She was now fully awake.

Jiang Fuxuan stood at one meter ninety, his brown suit accentuating his tall, slender frame.

These words were intended to save face for the Grand Princess and the royal family, effectively putting the matter to rest. The Princess of Jing and Old Madam Ruan both nodded in agreement; the Crown Prince, despite his youth, carried himself with remarkable poise.

The only difference was that specific appliances—the microwave, lawnmower, electric fan, refrigerator, and washing machine—had been fitted with special motor components that Rotom could operate.

Having waited for a long time, she saw that the person sitting by the bed had no intention of leaving. After steeling her resolve several times, she thought it might be that icy clan leader. Well, if she was going to die, so be it; she had already been captured once, anyway.

This point was not only understood by Shuo, but Ye Zheng himself was well aware of it. However, launching a massive attack to wipe out Shuo’s army was a move born of necessity. Compared to Shuo, the Golden Dragon King’s forces were far more terrifying. If he couldn't secure a chance for reinforcements from Shuo, his odds of victory would become even bleaker.

Indeed, Nianlang had won in the end, and Su Yian had suffered a crushing defeat. Nianlang’s constant disruptions were, of course, part of his plan, as he had been waiting for the day his father would finally make a move.

In truth, it was not so. While Ye Zheng’s actions seemed reckless and impulsive, if one thought about it carefully, had he really considered nothing at all when he acted?

Yet, at this moment, for Ye Feng, the situation was completely reversed: his physical body had attained the innate realm first, while his cultivation still remained a step away.

"Where do you come up with so many twisted excuses? Tell me what you discovered! What were your orders from above?" Agu asked.

Li Xuan, however, found it laughable. Having been pushed aside, she sat on the sofa that Lu Yan had just vacated. She leaned back against one armrest and draped her legs over the other, her silky pajamas sliding down under gravity until they barely reached the tops of her thighs, revealing a hint of red lace underwear.

The Blood Emperor awkwardly withdrew his hand. Had Bedivere’s sword moved even an inch closer, his hand would have been severed.

"Second Brother, I’m sorry. This matter is entirely my fault; I just couldn't hold back." Once they met, Cui Dazheng was the first to take responsibility upon himself.

"Minister Chang, tell us what you have uncovered." High on the dais, Li Yuan sat firmly, while the various ministers knelt scattered across the floor below.

"Amitabha." At this moment, Putuo, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, chanting a Buddhist mantra. Then, he removed the prayer beads from his neck and whipped them through the air.