Fifty-four, fifty-four.

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Li Chunfeng immediately drew two slender silver needles, locking Gu Sheng’s scapula. The latter felt utterly powerless, unable to muster any strength, and could only submit to the actions of those present.
Bai Lin glanced briefly at Ouyang Luo and the others, then at Xing Yue, maintaining his usual icy silence.
But why was he angry? If he got angry, would he bully Luo again? Thinking of the injuries Luo had suffered for him, Qing Han bit her lip and tears began to fall once more.
“This must be some kind of welcome ritual,” Duan Ke said uncertainly as he watched the starving refugees on the large screen, their bodies as thin as bamboo poles.
Every accidental encounter, he always greeted politely but never spoke more than a word before passing by. Yet, for some reason, Luo Shuiyi always felt his attitude towards her was strange—she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was odd, only sensing a curious mix of scrutiny and respect.
Watching her master’s angry retreating figure, Luo Shuiyi pouted in grievance and went to find Su Yajun.
It wasn’t until this moment that Tyson recalled Bai Qi, remembering that Bai Qi had said he would go to the Turner Province after leaving the Forest of the Dead, so he traveled all the way here.
Then, following Li Chunfeng’s instructions, the village elder ordered the able-bodied men to drag the corpses outside the village for burial, working tirelessly until nightfall.
The Purple-Gold Bowl thundered down like a bolt of lightning, but it vanished as if it had sunk into mud with no response. Instead, waves of backlash surged, as if trying to break free from his control.
The officials watching immediately understood: these three men were clearly embezzlers who colluded with outsiders, which explained their current predicament.
“Have we identified who is responsible?” Huangfu Chen suppressed his anger and asked in a low voice.
Li Biao and Li Hu, leading a hundred fierce troops wielding unfamiliar blades, stood in strict formation, the cold glint of their weapons flashing. These soldiers had long been idle in Suiyang and were eager for action; now, sensing a chance to charge into battle, they felt a secret thrill and anticipation.
Yan Lin’s status within the Flame Spirit Lizard tribe was not low; with him leading Xiao Tianchen into Flame Spirit City, few dared to approach and question them.

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Empress Dowager Qin was deep in lively conversation with the deputy envoy from Zhao, even dining together late into the night in the palace. This news left Shang Jin, the envoy of Han, who had just returned to the inn after leaving the palace, feeling a tangle of emotions.
Whether Ye Yiren remembered it no longer mattered; what counted was whether Ye Yiren would now accompany him to experience it firsthand.
After discussing economic issues, Ye Pingyu instructed Chi Yunzhou to bring up personnel adjustments and presented the detailed list as ordered.
“Could it be that this fox demon harmed Brother Zheng?” Chen Guhong’s mind flashed with the many strange incidents involving the Zheng family, and suspicion grew. Vengeance for slain comrades must be exacted.
Liu Heihu’s loud voice and rough manner startled Yan Tiechui and his two companions into quick sobriety; they hurriedly turned and fled up the mountain.
As his consciousness gradually cleared and he examined the meridians within his body, Xiao Tianchen let out a bitter laugh. He hadn’t expected that in his attempt to defeat Sword Thirteen, he had brought himself to such a state—over ninety-nine percent of his meridians damaged, and even his Yin-Yang true energy pitifully depleted.
With Xiao Tianchen’s departure, the entire battlefield fell into a profound silence.
The man in the jeep was a middle-aged man with a crew cut. He happily ended his call, got out of the car, and approached Chen Hao.
Yue Yunyou’s face brightened with joy; he quickly kowtowed several times before happily departing. The royal ancestor shook his head and said to Yue Mingxiu, “With a mind like this, I’m not surprised our Yue family’s lineage is so weak.” Yue Mingxiu’s face darkened, but he said nothing in rebuttal.
The surgery was scheduled for three days later, awaiting doctors from the capital and necessary preoperative preparations.
Liu Qingqing quietly made a hand signal; her cousin circled from behind, then there was a sudden “boom.”
After Qin Yang finished speaking, Wang Dong’s eyes gleamed with a strange light as he surveyed Qin Yang up and down, as if seeing him anew.
By the time they arrived at the pharmacy, Master Li San was already unconscious, pale as paper and breathing faintly.

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Yu Xin also rose from the sofa, watching Xia Shiguang who had just entered the courtyard, his expression complex.
They hovered half a meter above the ground as their clothes suddenly burst apart with a soft rip, leaving only a loincloth as their final defense.
Sister Hua spoke arrogantly, her tone commanding as if issuing an order, leaving no room for negotiation.
While people happily believed the world had become a “village,” in truth, it was the web of impressions woven within their own minds about the world.
Their group was only the fighting force of the Heavenly Sect; how could they contend with a terrifying Holy Demon?
“220.1 billion.” Seconds later, a new figure appeared on the screen—a golden-haired man from the Crans family.
However, as Luo Hao arrived here, his star chart suddenly rose to about ten thousand zhang, shining gently like a star.
It had no definite form, merely a shapely mass of energy. This was a vengeful spirit—the lowest grade of spirit entity.
Moreover, being responsible for this matter placed him in constant mortal danger, for any official loyal to the court, upon learning that the Emperor and Crown Prince had been moved to Hedong, would surely dispatch troops for rescue.
“Do you realize that if we do not act to help, those Tian Gang overlords, if they fail to subjugate you, will ultimately destroy you to avoid trouble!” Li Qingjian declared.