27. A Journey Through the Qing Dynasty (27)

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Yan Zhen viewed others as scenery here, yet he was unaware that he had inadvertently become scenery for others as well.
"Chen Chong, can you please mind your image?" Watching Chen Chong chug another large mouthful of red wine, Wang Nanbei could not help but reprimand him.
With both questions confirmed, Ximen Ce’s expression shifted. The situation was more serious than he had anticipated; he had not expected a third party to intervene, especially one with seniority even greater than his own.
When Zhu Siqing arrived in Ezhou and began sending troops to probe Yuezhou, Ma Yin’s attention was completely drawn to the Yuezhou front, leading him to neglect the enemy movements in Jiangxi.
The Weibo army pursued them, killing nearly ten thousand Liang soldiers, and subsequently looted the surrounding counties while sending envoys south to seek aid from Huainan.
There was one thing An Zi had not calculated: Wanyan Zong escorted him all the way to Nanchen, and upon making inquiries, his face turned deathly pale.
Yan Zhen was in no rush. After a while, he leisurely lowered the cold iron brush into the creature, scrubbing bit by bit until the flesh of the starving ghost rotted and its complexion changed in agony.
Having finally finished off one, Yan Zhen let out a long sigh. In truth, this battle had required significant effort and drained some of his magic power, yet it was still less taxing than a head-on confrontation with the Invincible Young Master. Yan Zhen looked ahead with a headache; there were still three great demon lords remaining, each a formidable adversary.
While An Ping was enduring inhumane, torturous body tempering in the Avici Hell, outside the Remnant Sun Valley, Xiu Yue, at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage, was suffering equally. It was the severing of a bond deep within her soul; the image of that wicked, grinning, cynical face—one she found herself unable to resist—lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.
Wang Chen’s lips curled slightly, revealing a mysterious smile. The "risking his life" he spoke of was not about risking his own against the opponent, but rather, he had already finished playing with the opponent’s life.
Mu Xia reapplied her lipstick, emanating a rich fragrance that matched her makeup for the day: bold, intense, and passionate.

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She knew she could not yield now, for if she were sent away by him, she would truly lose her chance. She did not know how Cheng Yingzu felt about her, but she trusted her own instincts.
"Is this the 'Soul-Severing Awl'?" He Dazhi examined the magical artifact in Luo Yunji’s hands with curiosity.
"I am not slandering you! You clearly stretched out your foot to trip me! Xi'er was right beside me at the time; she must have seen it!" Su Jinlan roared at Su Jinxiu.
The heat of the topic had cooled slightly today, yet many people were still sharing their experiences from their first time in the dungeon.
"I know, I know, I will marry you, but why the rush? Can’t we just enjoy our courtship happily?" Fu Xin asked.
He stopped in his tracks, looking at her foolish, pitiful appearance. He had wanted to pat her head, but seeing other passersby, he withdrew his hand with restraint. His expression remained indifferent, as calm as still water.
Seeing the ronin’s figure vanish, Zhang Tuohai dusted off his clothes where he had been touched and pushed open the door.
No one had ever seen such a miraculous art as building a city with bare hands. If he were not an heir of the Yu clan, how could he possibly possess such wondrous means?
Two shells struck the concrete ground, blowing several police officers gathered together straight into the sky.
But before she could finish reminiscing, the decree from Emperor Yong'an arrived, ordering Long Jie and Long Xiao to bring her back to the capital immediately.
The Prince Zhong before me did not remain idle; he took a step forward, pretending to drape his cloak over my shoulders while actually attempting to embrace me. I quickly ducked and slipped under his arm. He might have been truly drunk, as his turn was somewhat sluggish. I could not afford to think too much and ran desperately toward the door.

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He very much wanted to offer some advice, telling Deng Jinxiang not to act rashly, as violence could not solve the problem.
The aunt smiled and looked at me, saying, "After all, the whole world knows she is a disgraced concubine of the Prince Cheng’s mansion. If she is not punished, this status will not be removed. Do you not want her to stay by your side?"
However, she wanted to know even more what kind of relationship existed between the Southern Prince and Aunt Wan. Xia Houyi was the Southern Prince’s second son, and with both talent and appearance, he was not in the slightest inferior to Xia Houzhan. Yet, the Southern Prince was partial to the eldest prince—why was this?
Chu Tianzhao committed the map to memory countless times until he felt confident. After discussing it with Yang Fei'er, he decided to infiltrate the imperial palace again by night. Fearing for his safety, Yang Fei'er gave him repeated instructions before he left, telling him to return immediately if the situation became dangerous and to plan for the long term.
"I shall rest here." Feng Qianzhan did not want to go elsewhere; he only wanted to keep Gong Moli company. Her vision had just been restored today, and she must be feeling quite emotional; she probably wouldn't sleep tonight, and it had been a long time since they had a proper conversation.
Wang Lin was puzzled as to why Magistrate Xu was so furious, so he recounted the story exactly as it happened.
After drinking half a bottle of mineral water in the private room, the door pushed open. Two hotel security guards followed a very imposing middle-aged man inside.
"How could Lan Lingxuan not have thought of these concerns? How could he..." With a sigh, the helplessness in his heart was fully revealed. The light in Lan Lingxuan’s lowered eyes held a depth that Yang Mu could not fathom.
Tuoba Ying’s body clung to him like glue, climbing onto him inch by inch. She looked at the Thousand-Faced Fox, asking the same question over and over again. It was a question she asked every day, never tiring of it.