Chapter Thirty-Seven: Swindled Again

Mu Shao and Meng Han also entered the BYD 4S dealership. Their attire was far superior to that of Ye Feng; just Meng Han's LV handbag alone made the sales staff's eyes light up. Their sales training had taught them that recognizing luxury goods was an important skill, allowing them to gauge a customer’s purchasing power based on their appearance. Clearly, Mu Shao and Meng Han were seen as prime clients in the eyes of the salespeople. Different sales associates approached, yet all wore the same practiced smile. “Hello, what would you like to see...”

It proved true that Mu Feng was indeed someone who had weathered many storms. Even as Cheng Luobai stared at him the entire time, he managed to make it to the hospital, his expression unaffected.

Holding the plane ticket in her hand, Cheng Luobai felt as if she were dreaming. Was this real? Yet the solid texture in her hand assured her it was.

Still, she called someone to keep watch. After the two of them left Su Wanjing’s ward, they headed toward Leng Ling’s floor.

“By the time the martial arts tournament finals begin, they should be back…” Xiao Yang calculated the days.

“Even if it’s six jin, Madam Boss, just give me one yuan and twenty cents,” Grandma had told Mei Xue the price before she left.

Gao Shan’s mother looked at her daughter’s room and shook her head, regret flooding her heart. Yet, now that she wished to make amends, she realized there was nothing she could do.

When the door opened, only the dim yellow light inside could be seen. A narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for one person, stretched into the depths.

“How could I refuse? It’s a great honor that the city lord invites us. Please, lead the way.” Nan Xing understood Old Wang’s intent—it was for them to follow Lord Zhuqing. Since the city lord had sent someone directly, hiding was pointless; they might as well meet him.

All the classmates who had eagerly anticipated Lei Zi’s moment of glory were instead doubled over with laughter by his mischief, the sound of their laughter rising and falling, impossible to stop.

At this moment, Cheng Jianjun resented the old man deeply. Why wouldn’t he help him, raise his status just a bit higher? Then he wouldn’t have to leave the military compound in such disgrace.

The massive arena in the center was surrounded by countless water-ice mirrors, magnifying the events within tenfold and displaying them clearly for all spectators.

His body, tainted here and there by traces of the venomous dragon, had already turned a purplish-black hue, yet he stubbornly refused to yield a single step.

Besides, none of them were particularly outstanding; their only distinction was the honor of residing in the royal mansion. Their lives were more comfortable in terms of food, clothing, and shelter, and when they attended banquets, they could claim to be family members of the Prince of Pingyuan. These were their only privileges, perhaps offering them a slight advantage when discussing marriage.

Zhong Tuxin had long noticed the bag. When he opened it, he found a large chunk of refined iron, likely weighing several dozen jin.

I said, “In the past, we learned, but never applied it in practice; only now are we truly using it.” He replied, “County and city-level banks aren’t authorized to conduct this business, so how can we settle it?”

Suddenly, a streak of black light flashed from the corner of Qing’er’s eye, stabbing fiercely toward the chest of the Dragon Serpent. The Dragon Serpent hadn’t expected this attack and hastily dodged, his hand flipping to grasp a green steel claw, which he swung heavily at the tail of the black light.

For thirty years, the spirit realm had enjoyed peace after the destruction of the Nether Sect; all those who had suffered under its threat were freed and lived in harmony for a time.

The last lotus petal bloomed, and within its heart stood Yun Shitian, silver hair billowing in the wind, gleaming in the brilliant sunlight like waves upon the sea, radiance spreading in all directions.

The pressure was overwhelming, and Nangong Yao could hardly bear it. Nangong Yu remained silent, but Nangong Yao understood what he meant. His heart grew bitter—was he not even willing to give him a substitute?

The crown prince’s wedding was no less grand than Qingyi and Yuxi’s, though the betrothal gifts and dowry weren’t as eye-catching as Qingyi’s.

As I walked through the corridor, I saw two bodyguards from the personal guard detachment standing watch in the living room, hands tucked inside their coats.