Chapter One Hundred: Xiao Jiu, I’m Sorry

The Ye siblings stared at her in abject terror.

With a baseball bat in hand, Li Jiuwei strolled up to Ye Sang as if she had all the time in the world. Slowly, she closed her eyes.

A scream tore through the air, and Li Jiuwei let the bat fall from her hand.

Without looking back, she walked away.

Feng Su gave a signal to his bodyguards to deal with the Ye siblings.

Breaking one of their legs was already mercy.

Ye Chu’s sobbing went on and on, but Feng Su pretended not to hear a word of it. He caught up with Li Jiuwei.

Seeing this, Aunt Ping let out a long sigh. She sat down by herself, her gaze drifting now to Lin Chang, now to the Chen matriarch, as though she had sunk into a trance.

Back in her darkened room, she lit a cigarette. Sparks shimmered, then blossomed into a pale halo of light. Her thoughts settled one layer at a time, and in her ears there seemed to rise an overture. She could not help wondering whether, after this car exhibition, both her love and her career would begin a new chapter.

“They’ve always had their eye on that piece of land in Chinatown. After the young master left, Ma Feng sent people to investigate, and it turned out those men from the Han-Japanese Society were actually acting on orders from the Mafia, which is why they went to Chinatown to kill and burn!” Tank told Qin Long everything he knew.

When asked where Qi Zhengqing planned to go, he only said he would wander about and settle wherever seemed fit to live.

Hearing the “parents” beside her keep muttering that she had been injured, had fallen ill, had lain unconscious for three or four days, and that they had nearly thought she was doomed, she immediately guessed what had happened. It was as if a thunderbolt had split open above her head, leaving her stunned and reeling.

The soldiers cheered as though they were not on a battlefield at all. On the opposite side, the braided-army troops were too terrified to move. Had they not said the rebel forces had only a few cannons?

My mind seemed to have frozen. For nearly a year it had been this way. It felt as though I had lost the innovative spark and the drive to break through old limits that once came so naturally. I knew it was tied to this quiet life; it had become difficult for me to stir myself into motion again.

After the two of them reached an agreement inside the room, the old lady Lin came out at once and took her leave in haste. After all, one had to give people time to clean up, didn’t one?

At the thought, Nian was left with a face full of black lines and silently defended Director Xiao. In the entire film world, everyone knew the director’s handsome, imposing image; he had even been voted the most handsome director in history. If he ever learned that his wife described him like this in private, he would probably make a scene about killing himself.

Wu Yi, who should still have been blocking Nie Yun’s right claw, had already appeared like a ghost before Yan Yuhan, his right fist crashing straight into Nie Yun’s palm.

At that moment, the original crack widened once more, reaching a staggering two thousand zhang. All the molten lava gathered in the sky into a gigantic spherical mass, with torrents of magma surging restlessly across its surface. Through his Divine Eye of Reincarnation, Zhou Yun was horrified to discover that an enormous shadow was hidden within it.

Zhou Yun paid the dragon horse no mind. At this moment, every thought in him was wholly fixed on the earth fire spiritual vein ahead. The flames had already descended into fury, surging forth like a vast ocean in revolt.

Then, all at once, a layer of elemental energy shield appeared around Feng Xingyun, actually blocking Zhou Yun’s assault.

Even when people whispered behind his back, Bai Chong did not lose his temper. Seeing the pained look on her face, he grew frantic with worry, unable to settle in either direction.

“How can I become a demonic beast?” Wu Yi naturally would not confess outright that he was in truth a mutant with the body of a beast. Instead, he played the part of an ordinary human and humbly sought guidance from the Messenger of the Second Tribulation.

“A blade is dead; people are alive. A painting is nothing more than a painting,” Zhang Ping replied lightly.

Lu Zipeng sat motionless in the seat of honor. An invisible aura of terror radiated from his body, and the surrounding void even warped faintly, as if struck by a vast and crushing field of force.

This child was straightforward by nature and did not bother with excessive tact in her dealings. Speaking with her felt easy to Commander Cheng, the old general, because there was no need to puzzle things out for too long.