Volume One, Chapter 71: Almost, Just Almost

The flames were on the verge of igniting.

At the final moment, Mo Xingyuan suddenly halted.

Su Li’s eyes were clouded with desire, her cheeks flushed, utterly bewildered.

Mo Xingyuan picked up the discarded clothes and draped them back over her. Stripped of passion, the man’s demeanor was even colder.

“Wash up and go to sleep.”

Su Li remained seated on the counter, regaining a measure of clarity. “What’s wrong?”

Mo Xingyuan gathered his clothes and dressed, not sparing her a single glance.

“Mo Xingyuan, what exactly do you mean?” Su Li’s anger flared.

She was indeed left wanting, but it was his attitude that infuriated her even more.

He had just been all over her, biting and kissing her skin; now, to stop so abruptly—anyone would feel unbalanced.

Mo Xingyuan fastened his buttons, his deep eyes unfathomable.

She had a doll-like face, seemingly perfect for an adorable style, yet her expression was always aloof.

Ever since Mu Shaoyuan had taken control of the Mu Group, she, the “Dowager Empress,” had risen in standing, her worth surging alongside her son’s.

Cheng Jing couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Zhang Jiajia pouted, reluctant to leave the embrace that made her feel so secure.

Wei Xiong charged forward like an unstoppable bull, taking down over a hundred people in just ten minutes.

Jin Yunji declared with pride that, with the support of the Sacred Dao Society brothers beyond the mountains, their group would want for nothing and remain safe and hidden—though she admitted that managing the impatience of the brothers required effort.

Li Tiantian handled matters with remarkable reliability. After hanging up, she immediately called the front desk. Three minutes later, she sent Ji Ran a message.

Although the Su family was not a clan of great renown, they had clawed their way up, generation by generation, building their modest fortune from nothing.

Ji Tian’s deer-like eyes widened, reflecting the wretched state of Qin Jiangsheng—his black hair drenched and matted, his features sickly pale, cheeks tinged with faint red. Blood, mingled with rain, pooled at his feet, the result of a brutal beating.

Everyone believed firmly in the words of Hong Zhong and Fang Yu of the Maoshan Sect. After all, these two represented superpowers; every word and deed could shake the world—they would not speak lightly.

Even in the darkness, when the blossoms could not be seen, the air was thick with their intoxicating fragrance.

Louis made his final escape, seizing a brief respite thanks to Bard’s mighty swing.

Some roles in a play require no acting at all—just standing there, cold and detached, a mere backdrop.

Song Yuan reluctantly withdrew his hand, but left his head out the car window, gazing fixedly at his classmate, clad in long robes, standing in the wind—a torrent of emotions welling up inside him.

There was one irrefutable fact: the elderly man, whom the hospital once declared had only a month to live, had recovered.

Suddenly realizing he was the only one speaking, Jiang Liuchen turned to look at the others, then at Master Xu, and fell silent.

Jiang Beimou was utterly depleted. Back home, he sat on the sofa, pressing his brow, lost in silent contemplation.

Perhaps its reports were growing too brief, which was why the highest authority had come in person to question it this time.

This matter had to come out eventually, especially now that Lucien had shown up. If Jiang Yi meant to investigate, he would not escape scrutiny.

He was no good at spinning tales, and even if he tried, Gulu could always tell instantly. So what he spoke were truly the bizarre incidents he’d witnessed as an undercover mercenary all these years.

Back at Yunshan, these people naturally went to the Yunshan Villa to pay their respects to Li Gang and Li Zexuan.

The man before him was far more headstrong than he imagined. At the slightest provocation, he meted out harsh slaps without hesitation.

I didn’t know why he would ask me such a thing, but I was certain he had his reasons.

“Yes, that’s right. I won’t say a word,” Aunt Zou nodded in agreement, thinking of Wang Yuechun’s temperament.

“Did I say I’d touch? I just want to see if today’s is pink,” I replied with a smile.

Outside, Chen Fu knelt in the rain, tears streaming down his face, torn between conflicting loyalties. “Ayan, I’m sorry. I can’t betray my master. With A Yu in this state, what can I do?”

Lin Caiwei’s face was etched with terror. She shot Jiang Yi a sidelong glance, then hurried into the shop.

Afterward, she would offer sweet words, and old Qin would surely hand everything over to her. The more she thought of it, the more Ma Ling hoped the situation would escalate.

Yet Lin Caiwei felt none of this. She prepared water and dry provisions for the road, then got ready to set out.

She’d never cared for Zhang Ping’s cold sarcasm and insults before, but this time, his words cut deep.

“This is for Wu Miao, isn’t it?” Mu Xiu produced the ring and waved it before Chen Dongliang’s eyes.

“Since Sister Nan is here to handle it, we’ll take our leave, boss,” Fan Chen nudged the dazed Zhou Minghao, who quickly caught on and thanked him as well. Zhong Lingyu smiled and nodded in gratitude.

“Let’s go, let’s go.” Long Shaoyan practiced daily in the secret tunnel beneath the woods, claiming it was the best place for his cultivation. His ability to remain lucid for such long stretches was thanks to his profound internal strength. For that reason, Helan Yao refrained from disturbing his practice.

Under the flow of energy, the shattered flesh seemed to come alive, pulsing like boiling water, bubbling and twitching with a strange ‘gurgling’ sound.

Before long, he clenched his teeth, made a steely resolve, and seemed to make a decision that pained him deeply.

An Lingxi, blushing, scratched her head; why had Hanlong given her the BB? It was because she already had one, so she gave hers away. She hadn’t expected her memory to be so poor.

The younger generation of the Yi family all wore identical expressions, their gazes on Yi Xixuan filled with barely restrained infatuation.

Mao Leyan’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably. She knew Liu Zezhong was rambling to buy her time. Not daring to delay, she kept chanting, forcing the demon child’s birth.

I was stunned for a moment, then realization dawned. A hundred gold coins—at the very least, they could fetch several tens of thousands. It would be easy to lose them if carried by hand.

The Celestial Immortal of the Firmament paused but did not press further. Whatever the master wished to ask would become clear in time; no need to rush.

Long Shaoyan’s unyielding look was clear as day. But to her, his refusal was no more effective than a courtier’s protest—utterly futile.

Wu Yutong hadn’t expected Aunt to ask Chen Mo such a question. Flustered, she waved her hands, anxiously glancing at Chen Mo, who was watching her silently from the staircase.

Zuo Shishi drew a deep breath, hesitated, then changed her mind. “Never mind, I’ll teach you!” With that, she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.

“Brother Zhao, just ahead is the Mountain Spirit Tribe’s territory. If we all go in together, their patrols will spot us easily. Let’s camp here for now—I’ll head back immediately.” In the system interface, a message from Yi Chuan popped up. Zhao Zhongguo promptly ordered the team to rest in place.