Volume One, Chapter 38: I Want to Study Medicine

“What’s the point of recording all this?” Kang asked curiously.

Montage didn’t just jot down their traits—he even captured the minute details of their advancement. Kang couldn’t make sense of it.

“It might be useless now, but who can say what the future holds?” Montage smiled, offering no further explanation.

A good memory can’t compare to a bad pen—this was a lesson he’d learned back in school. By writing things down now, he could avoid many unnecessary detours in the future.

With everything done, he exited the consciousness space.

The soldiers had finished clearing the battlefield, placing their fallen comrades in body bags and loading them onto the trucks.

No words were exchanged along the way, and soon they were back at the military base.

Just as they returned...

After the serpent’s head hit the ground, it lay still for about two seconds before suddenly springing back up, snapping onto a nearby branch and refusing to let go.

“I feel like something’s off too. If I find out who set me up, I’ll wipe out his entire family,” Lin Wei said, his face livid with anger.

Long Tianwei’s steps abruptly halted. He turned to stare coldly at the Death Emperor, who had been trailing behind him, eating his dust. As he expected, Long Tianwei didn’t charge at him directly but stopped ten meters away, locking eyes with him, his gaze icy.

At that moment, a white figure darted in from outside. It paused upon seeing Duan Qiu, then immediately sprang toward him.

“Why don’t we run the Red Scales dungeon?” someone suggested, steering the conversation back to the Red Scales instance.

After two months away, Snow Moon had undergone dramatic reforms—defensive facilities and the number of powerhouses had increased significantly. Especially Zi, who had now reached level sixty-five.

This movement allowed the Medicine Elder, who had been observing Long Tianwei, to finally see his face clearly. The Medicine Elder was so shocked he nearly blurted out an expletive, his expression frozen in astonishment.

Apart from Duan Qiu, the Guardians and Angels were also fighting. As long as Angel Ming’s battleship activated, this rescue mission would be a complete success.

“You really don’t know?” Xi Hao pressed down harder, making Wei Jianfeng cry out in pain.

Everyone understood, though there was a hint of disappointment. It seemed the Long family’s young master had intended to give up from the start, dooming this match to become a showcase for the Lu family’s heir.

No wonder his son was so infatuated with her—she truly possessed an inexplicable, magnetic charm.

Without extraordinary support pills or a stroke of fortune, Zheng Zhong would find it nearly impossible to break through his bottleneck on his own.

These twelve had likely never seen such formidable hidden weapons, nor so many at once. Yet when they finally witnessed them, not one could utter a single comment—they no longer had the strength to speak. Like Yan Xuehun and Jiang Fengyu, they lay motionless on the ground.

“No need for formalities, you two.” The Flood Demon King wasted no words. Descending from the dragon throne, he waved his hands, and a massive map appeared before the three of them.

That night, as torches flickered, Zhang Yu sat behind his makeshift curtain, anxiety and inner turmoil writ on his face. The outcome of the battle for Xinye was still undecided. Zhang Yu feared for his life—caught between soldiers and civilians, there would be no easy resolution.

“I come from the Chen family as well, so there’s no need for such formalities between us. In the future, let’s treat each other as equals,” Zheng Zhong said with a gentle smile to the blushing Chen Xiaoxi.

Tang Ming was momentarily stunned by the head nurse’s scolding. Clearly, the forty-something nurse didn’t recognize him.

“Advisor Zhebian, if you truly intend to help us, just tell us your thoughts. If not, I won’t force you. But with your talk of the chancellor today, I’m at my wit’s end—the chancellor and vice-governor aren’t even here,” Ping Yan Gucheng said.

Rong Hua glanced at Ruan Lin, who was also present. Her meaning was clear: look, her talent isn’t even as good as yours, yet you have a space where one day outside equals a year inside, and still you’re only at the mid-Core Formation stage.

A crescent moon hung in the sky, its light spilling over the desolate woods, casting a melancholy, sorrowful air.

People who usually tried to avoid working late suddenly volunteered for overtime, and every gaze in the editorial department turned, thoughtful, toward Xiao Xin, wondering what had gotten into her today.

Tang Xin shot Qiao Yuno a displeased glance, feeling as if Qiao Yuno was deliberately flaunting that “Lie Yan is hers now.”

“Yuan Shao, what are you running for? You’re old enough to behave yourself.” Yuan Weiwei gave her excited little brother a stern look.

“Miss Long, is Hero Yang Guo doing well these days?” Yang Ming quickly inquired.

Tian Shixue reflected—she’d just chided Liu Jinhua for hurting Lan Feibo’s pride, yet here she was, saying the same kind of thing. What was the difference?

Yang Ming had no better idea. For now, he’d simply have to play it by ear.

Unexpectedly, Wang Han flipped through the booklet and said, “You handle it.” With that, he went to bed.

She was flushed with embarrassment and anger, the object in her hand gripped as if she were holding a burning piece of iron.

As Yin Chuyan noticed one fewer chopstick in Shen Xi’s hand, he raised an eyebrow, while across the table, Mu Qingze’s expression softened as he gazed tenderly at his junior sister.

“Relax, Brother Yang. Today, I guarantee you’ll drink your fill.” The two nodded vigorously and dashed out of the private room hand in hand.

The man’s face twitched, his brows tightly furrowed, a hint of distortion in his expression. His eyes narrowed to slits, sharp as blades, fixed coldly on Ye Qingcheng.

Fang Jie began to paint above, much to Long Bing’s torment. Mere close contact had already made him pitch a “tent,” and now, with Fang Jie’s teasing touch, the “tent” grew larger and trembled uncontrollably.

Empress Xia’s voice cut off abruptly; she glared at Ye Qingcheng, her body trembling like a leaf in an autumn wind.

As their eyes fell on the giant screen, the highlight from earlier replayed once again.