73 Golden Sphere's Story of Raising Cubs (Part One)

After all, a person like Tai Xiangfei, who possesses the ability to create dreams, is well worth the investment. This was also why Zhao Han left without completing the deal. As the enchanting colors of the dream-wind brushed past, the blood-red madness in the tall cultivator’s eyes gradually faded. The frantic movement of his throat slowed, and the murderous cries from his lips dwindled to incoherent murmurs.

Thunder rumbled—the terrifying pit seemed to expand endlessly, and a sandstorm of apocalyptic proportions swept across a thousand miles, clouds of yellow dust rising thousands of meters into the sky. The Eastern Emperor Taiyi had been prepared; his steel-blue blade flashed from its sheath, instantly severing Fansili’s attack.

Meanwhile, as Yi Hao exited the venue of the trading convention, a sinister smirk crept across his face the moment he stepped out the door. No one could guess what scheming thoughts lurked behind his cold expression as he melted into the darkness of a nearby alley.

In the Duke Protector’s mansion, the aged but still imposing Gao Xianshi sprang to his feet in anger after reading the memorial in his hand.

Just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, Daoist Wang, the leader of the Luofu Palace delegation, stepped forward. He demanded all parties restrain themselves and refrain from harming the innocent, warning that violators would be severely punished and even stripped of their qualifications to enter the White Bird Secret Realm.

At the instant when Ye Yingfeng fell, he glimpsed across the river—a bright and handsome youth sat astride a horse, bow drawn, aiming at the back of the man in black.

Several layers of ice walls collapsed with a thunderous crash. The frosty aura in the air vanished, and the temperature returned to normal.

“So you’re Zhang Hanzhi, the assassin from the Heaven-Piercing Alliance?” Ye Yingfeng’s face took on a frosty chill as he questioned Zhang Hanzhi.

After returning from the hospital to the hotel, I spent the whole day watching television, refusing to do any work or even think about anything. As the chaotic jumble of Arabic blared from the TV, I was suddenly overcome by a longing for Musa—longing to talk with him, to lean against the warmth of his embrace.

Rong Liang glanced down at Bingqing’s hand clutching his sleeve. Her fingers were as pale and fine as ever, the bones standing out from her grip. For a moment, his expression grew distant, as if realizing that it had been a long time since they had been so close.

Lan Qi’s eyes curved in laughter. Yesterday, on the gate tower at noon, the nurse brought her son over. Even through his swaddling, she could feel his plump little body. He was no longer the same as on the day he was taken away. The child was growing every day—she feared that, if she waited much longer, she might not even recognize him.

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Huan Chun looked at her mistress with concern. She felt her mistress had become much more haggard these last two months, all for the sake of handling this affair.

Qiong Ying sat on the main seat, dressed in a purple brocade robe, her face uncovered. The hideous scars on her left cheek were exposed in the candlelight, a twisted web of wounds.

Given such a good opportunity, no one was willing to waste time. The group split up, visiting the Al Ain Oasis, the Royal Palace Museum, the camel market, and other places. Gradually, everyone left the hotel, but Lian Pian and I waited for Edward to pick us up and drive us to our destination, rather than heading out on our own.

“I miss how you were when we first met,” Tian Qi said, turning his head. The audience behind him drew a collective breath.

When Xiangqin saw the vial of poison, her already pale face turned ghastly white, her whole body trembling like a leaf.

Xue Bao’er, having studied abroad all her life, had never played the game of Chaos. The Mo family had never told her its secret, and she had no idea that there were people one simply could not afford to cross.

Shang Jingxing glanced at the table in front of Night Panther—six, six, one, one, one—a total of fifteen points, making it unnecessary to roll again. The sum of the four dice he had displayed already exceeded her total.

Now, the leaders of one faction, Ma Shiying and Ruan Dacheng, had already backed down and would no longer compete. Thus, the only matters left were internal to the Donglin Party, and for Li Xiangqian and his group, it was unacceptable for them to be allowed to unite and focus their strength.

Approximately seven thousand Ming garrison troops had surrounded Sugagawa. Inside the city, there were over seven hundred elite Japanese pirates, and the commander had organized more than two thousand teenage and over-forty-year-old pirates for the defense—a total of three thousand defenders.

Across the Yangtze from Nanjing, Prince Lu had gathered several hundred boats and over a thousand newly built rafts. Over two hundred thousand troops stood ready, prepared to cross the river and besiege Nanjing at any moment.

Nestled between the winding corridors and stone paths stood a grand residence, connected on both sides to other houses, forming a symmetrical, square-shaped complex.

“No, thank you. Choosing you was truly the best decision,” Night God Yi gave a slight smile, clearly pleased with the fortunate outcome.

Xu Xiao stepped out of the cubicle. Behind him, the two watchers had already been knocked unconscious, their hands tied behind their backs.

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Half persuasion, half coercion—with Xu Xiao’s urging, though some were dissatisfied with his arrangements, they followed his instructions nonetheless.

Though Li Mingqiu and Ouyang Zhi Yue had agreed to keep their faces hidden, Li Mingqiu did not even want her name to be known. After all, who could say when word might reach the Koreans? It was difficult, but not impossible; the world is never short of coincidences.

As for what happened when the Venomous Flood Dragon entered, it was only to be expected. Already wounded by Lu Lanlian’s supreme technique and never having fully recovered, now in an environment perfectly suited to it and free from human restrictions, its cultivation soared to the Nascent Soul stage in a single leap.

Wu Rui was bewildered by Li Ning’s gift of a pill, feeling only gratitude. Tears welled in her eyes, almost spilling over. She struggled to suppress her emotion, unable even to choke out a thank you, her throat so tight it felt as if a frog were lodged within.

But to call these people an army would be inaccurate. They were more like conscripted laborers than soldiers.

I began to grow curious about Abernath’s true identity. He could stir Lirad’s emotions and even put Danny on his guard—who could he possibly be?

The dark demonic aura around Prince Longyang had dissipated somewhat. Even the Dragon Demon Spear in his hand quivered with fear, as if it had developed a trace of timidity.

In hindsight, Yu Ming could only shudder—if even one part of the plan had gone awry, he would have been doomed.

“Damn that Reinhardt! That old fox!” Beidou punched the pristine white wall. Though he had done his best to restrain his strength, he still smashed a gaping hole through it.

Ling Tianchen, watching from the periphery, spat fiercely. Reinhardt was showing no respect at all. This move completely blocked Beidou’s plan. Who would dare act under such circumstances? Beidou’s fighting spirit must have been utterly crushed.

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