Thirty-six. Thirty-six.

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The banquet hall was packed with guests today. Han Feng instructed the waiters to place samples of the communal dishes in the most prominent spot in the hotel lobby.

Cheng Tao stood up, cast a glance at Song Dan, and then turned his gaze toward Wang Chunhui. "Treat your wife well in the future. Do not let something like this happen again; you will not always be this lucky. Go ahead and eat; I am going to settle the bill." With that, Cheng Tao pushed open the door and headed toward the reception desk.

Seeing that her move was too ruthless, Hu Tianchuan had no choice but to abandon his attack on Cheng Rui. Retracting his elbow, he swung it toward Sun Yunfei’s chest.

Everyone turned to look at the stone. It remained perfectly intact on the two iron benches, not shifting in the slightest.

The current O-Station, much like the late-stage B-Station of the previous life, suffered from pitifully low traffic in its music section. Without a solid fan base or flashy antics, survival was simply impossible.

By that day, news of their upcoming marriage had spread everywhere; practically every media outlet featured the story on their front page.

"Are you all busy with something?" Li Sinan peered inside, searching for any signs of anything unusual, but felt a pang of disappointment when he found none.

The staff member felt Shen Yan was being entirely too unreasonable. Too weary to waste any more words on her, she simply summoned the security team.

As the true strength of Wilhelm II became increasingly understood, people had to admit that Luo Tian’s courage and capability were truly unparalleled. Although this tactical formation was not unveiled until six months later due to Noel’s injury, its very appearance was destined to command attention.

"In that case, I am quite lucky," Tong Chuxue breathed a long sigh of relief and smiled—a smile of pure liberation.

Forget about arrays; the Three Great Academies possessed countless classics for learning alchemy, artifact forging, and puppet arts, even providing professional masters for guidance.

Brigadier Ding opened the letters. The one from the southeast corner turned out to be from Director Han. The one from the southwest corner, however, was indeed written by the invaders.

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Leng Hao did not say a word. He snatched the bill of sale, didn't even bother to look at it, and refused to touch the cinnabar in the girl's hand.

"Damn you, do you think I want to be sentimental? If you have nothing better to do, stop interfering with my livestream and go back to researching your tactics," Jin Yu cursed.

"Everything in this world is interconnected; every gain is balanced by a loss. If you remain trapped in such a predicament, you will forever be at odds with the Dao." Li Xixi withdrew her gaze, feeling the vast demonic energy gradually radiating from the robed figure, and pursed her thin lips, unwilling to say anything more.

Next, Qiao Feng should learn the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, the Dog-Beating Staff Technique, and the miraculous Dragon-Capturing Skill.

Thinking back, it made sense. If he had discussed it with Li Chunyi yesterday and ordered an investigation overnight, he would have naturally discovered it was merely a farce.

If she kept this matter hidden and failed to report it, she would be failing the Imperial Noble Consort. Yet, reporting it directly seemed inappropriate. It would be better to drop a hint to those around the Consort and let them handle it.

Nascent Soul cultivators can teleport, but Gong Yuquan had only attained the strength of a mid-stage Nascent Soul; he could not teleport. Ye Feng was confident in this. The ghosts would certainly be able to hold him off for an hour. After that hour, the Twelve Earthly Branches Sword Array would lose its effect.

She only wanted to join him in battle, even if it meant just listening to his voice, reliving his expressions, or catching a distant glimpse of his figure; that would be the greatest happiness of her life. But fate is unpredictable, and she could never keep pace with him.

Closing his eyes, he used the "mind's eye" of a swordsman to dodge the bald man’s ninja sword, sensing the violent intent behind the enemy's every strike.

"So, my nephew is also well-versed in the tea ceremony?" Hearing Qiu Xuan’s admiring tone, Rong Tian couldn't help but feel a touch of pride. He had cultivated these tea leaves himself and put them through countless special roasting processes to achieve such perfection. He would never have brought out such tea for an ordinary guest.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliar environment, but Su Nian’an found it hard to sleep. She opened her eyes to stare out the window, unaware of when she eventually drifted off.

"The day after tomorrow, the day after tomorrow..." The child said, looking somewhat aggrieved. "We have a market day here the day after tomorrow. Please, you must let him come, okay?" Guo Qingcong asked with an earnest expression.

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Jin Feng, Jin Xuyao, Jin Rong, and the others watched the scene, their faces breaking into joyful smiles one after another. Even Xie Yifan, who had sat in the corner without expression all evening, joined in with a happy laugh.

After Qin Wuyan regained his composure, he grew increasingly wary of Jin Ping’er. He glanced at Gui Li and, finding the latter completely unaffected, raised his estimation of him even higher.

The crowd saw that the monster had limbs like a human, and even wore clothing on its body, though very little. The exposed skin was covered in patches that looked like fish scales.

Tang Long paced back and forth in the room, carefully examining the scene. Although the blood on the floor belonged to the deceased, she was merely a cripple—who could be so heartless as to harm her?

A breeze blew, scattering the dust in the sky. The cliff in the distance remained standing, and the seven-leaf spirit grass swayed in the wind. Its roots had already been exposed from the black rock, yet it did not fall.

"Snow Toad Divine Skill?" the young man muttered, wondering what kind of martial art that could be.

Things always took three turns for every one; accidents and enemies arrived one after another, leaving Li Zixiao truly exhausted. He wished he could master the art of duplication to help resolve his difficulties.

This explanation sounded a bit like the practices of ancient sorcerers, but it was all true. As long as the soul remains, a practitioner of the nether arts is alive. Take the King of Ten Thousand Bones, for example: he also relied on a wisp of soul to survive. If he wished, he could take on a human form rather than remaining a chilling skeleton.

A weary body, sluggish mental energy, dried-up blood power, and barely a shred of blood-contract energy remaining.

The moment Qi Ming’s body cleared the gate, two gusts of holy spiritual energy, carrying the force of a storm, struck from both sides, intent on crushing him into a pulp.