Chapter Fifty-Two: The Shepherd of the Northern Desert
The table and teacups crashed to the floor with a clatter. The people watching the performance in the courtyard all stood up, their faces flushed with anger. In an instant, their shuffling feet closed in and surrounded me at the center.
What should I do now?
I glanced back at the stage, only to find the father and daughter performing were completely unfazed, continuing their singing as if nothing at all had happened below. The beautiful woman’s face remained expressionless, and her singing grew even more full and resonant.
Inside the room, the two elder men were taciturn. Min Jing sat to the side, glaring daggers at Liang Yimo, her eyes practically spitting fire. Noticing that Lu Jingheng’s gaze never left Liang Yimo, she vented all her resentment on the pastries in her hands.
Long ago, in the Eastern Palace, from the moment he entered the gates, he had always searched for her. In these endless mountains, he had never once let go of her hand easily, for fear of losing her.
After arriving in the southern frontiers, Ximen Zhe finally began to revisit the martial techniques he had memorized in the past, painstakingly training himself. Coupled with his diligence and the guidance he received due to his status as the Western Lord, he gradually reached his current level of mastery.
A white figure drifted downward in the ever-darkening abyss, graceful as a dragon swimming through the gloom.
He had personally witnessed Rose coughing blood and collapsing before his eyes, had heard her bid him farewell in her dreams, and had watched, helpless, as her body was consumed by flames and reduced to lifeless ashes.
“So impressive! If I ever get the chance, I’d love to spar with him,” Ren Kun sneered, lifting the fist that hadn’t seen professional competition in years.
Though they called it confinement, it was actually a well-appointed lounge. After all, the Fu family held considerable influence even in America, and no one dared mistreat Fu Chengjue for fear of future repercussions.
If nothing else, simply seeing the ruined, crumbling walls of the former capital made any attempt at concealment impossible.
“Heh heh, little one, I’ve seen you several times before.” Granny Meng spoke as she ushered them into the house.
“There’s no reason. If I say no, then it’s no!” Qin Mo’s voice was tinged with both shock and fury, leaving not a shred of leeway.
She threw back her head and howled, her teeth turning razor-sharp, her green skin darkening to black, and her eyes glowing an even fiercer red.
It was Ye Tian’s first time seeing Earth with his own eyes, and he was utterly awestruck by its scenery.
But His Majesty could hardly bear such a massive loss. With no other choice, though lacking confidence, he steeled himself and pressed on.
Leng Dianchen had never imagined using this sort of punishment to force distance between An Ruoran and Mo Lingran. This was never part of Leng Dianchen’s original plan.
Zhang Yuan watched as, against the darkness of space, a sudden flash of intense light erupted, followed by bright rings rapidly expanding outward in all directions.
The Bai family had assumed they wouldn’t come, but to their surprise, they did—surely understanding that if the Bai family fell, their own ruin would soon follow.
Zhang Yuan did not hurry to enter the mech. He waited patiently in the hall, and after about fifteen minutes, a flash of light appeared at the center, revealing an old man seated in a wheelchair.
This princess was the apple of Lady Pingjiang’s eye; even the slightest mishap would mean a bitter homecoming.
Fortunately, he followed in time, or else all the benefits would have fallen to Li Ruo and Ye Miaocheng! Qin Shao couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
Hearing the red dragon’s words, Ye Tian’s eyes narrowed with excitement. The auction was finally over, and the energy stones he’d acquired were simply staggering.
Ahead of Li Shiba, a car had been tailing them all the way to their residence. It only stopped ten meters from Zhou Lin’s place.