Chapter Seventy-Two: Attitude Toward Work

Feeling somewhat ashamed by the words, Yuan Yao’er knew Yuan Xiangdie would not show her a kind face, so she chose to feign deep sorrow, hiding herself away in her room. Even when the others were leaving, only Zhang Xi changed into plain clothes, forcing herself to appear calm as she stepped out.

“Mr. Jin, I entrust my daughter to your care. Though I am not her birth mother, as her stepmother I still hope this girl will fare well. Her real mother passed away early, and her father...” She mentioned it in passing, as if it were unintentional, then waved it off and let the subject drop. A trace of regret flickered across her face, blaming herself inwardly for letting those words slip.

Mouth agape, he took a deep breath; Yu Hao felt an even stronger force drawing him in, his body helplessly pulled toward the demon god.

The previous battle had been Zhao Hao’s most difficult yet. While he had managed to use the system to avoid a crisis, the cost was immense—enough to leave him utterly destitute.

“Phew, I’m back,” Zhao Hao murmured as he settled into his familiar swivel chair, relief softening his features as he surveyed the scene.

This? Though he was only a step away from the celestial realm, being struck through by the Void-Splitting Spear was not enough to kill him instantly.

Assailed by the stench of decay, the warriors snorted coldly; their eyes burned with murderous intent.

The Buddhist sect of this world differed from those of others. There was no such thing as absolute perfection; even in the cultivation of the Way, as long as human thought remained, competition was inevitable—only the means of competition varied.

The assassin sent to kill Xu Tian was formidable, at least at the fifth or sixth level of the Spirit Realm. For one skilled in the art of assassination, such strength was already considerable.

“That guy only saw a blurry shadow. Let’s use sound or something else to lure her over, and then take a stick and give him a good beating from behind,” A Qing suggested.

Ge Yueying must have sensed what was about to happen. She sat in the living room on the very sofa where Ye Qin had just slept, pipe hanging from her lips but unlit, merely held between her teeth.

At her words, the body of the Dark Emperor began to turn transparent, slowly fading away. Zhao Hao, seeing this, frowned slightly. He could no longer sense the other’s presence—the Dark Emperor had completely left this world.

As Annu spoke, her expression grew ever more complex, a tangled mix of pride and pain.

With no party backing him, how could he maintain impartiality and detachment? Both East and West would surely try every means to sway him, to make him take their side, or even serve their interests.

“What do you mean, what? One million and one taels—if you don’t bid, this thing is mine.” Qing Hong rolled her eyes impatiently; she had no fear of the item ending up in her hands. If she couldn’t make the old miser pay dearly, she’d rather keep it herself.

In Qing Hong’s dark eyes, turbulent waves were hidden, yet her entire demeanor was calm and unruffled. Looking at Qin Tian’ao’s anxious gaze, she gave a slight nod.

Na Tie had intended to read Yang Jingxiu’s expression for clues, but unexpectedly, though the man was usually hot-tempered, at this moment he seemed utterly serene, leaving Na Tie more uncertain than ever.

Jiang Lan turned away, glancing at the security guards retreating to the corners, surrounding her yet not daring to approach. She shrugged contemptuously.

Zhou Nan’s understanding of German history was no less extensive than that of his own country, especially since the internet became widespread. Living as a recluse in the mountains, he spent most of his time on the computer, meticulously studying German history from World War II to the present.

Of course, Luo Yu was not confessing to Xuan Shuang, but rather offering comfort. Still, as someone obsessed with cultivation, he found it difficult to express such heartfelt words with any clarity.

In the blink of an eye, the arena above was shrouded in gathering leaves, blocking out the sunlight overhead. The already gloomy sky grew even darker and more oppressive.

“Great Gold Mountain” was the only place in Linzi District that could truly be called a mountain, with an elevation of about two hundred meters and covering just over twenty hectares. It lay more than twenty kilometers from Zhengwang Village.