Volume One, Chapter 74: Lin Ranran Deliberately Refused to Save Them

Lin Ranran and Ji Junxiao came out upon hearing Captain Yang's words.

“Ranran, let me go check. You stay home and rest,” Ji Junxiao said, holding his stomach as he gave instructions.

“I’d better go. You should rest properly,” Lin Ranran replied, striding forward with long, determined steps—after all, a life was at stake!

“Ranran—” Captain Yang and Father Ji hurried after her.

“Sister-in-law—” Several men from the Ji family also followed.

She packed up her things. Having lived in this place for over half a year, even though the boss had never remembered her name, she still went to say goodbye.

At the end of the corridor, Hua Yi dialed his phone, too lazy to even hold it, simply turning on speaker and setting it on the cement railing.

Inside the room, Chen Lulu clung tightly to his neck. It took a long time to coax her into the bathroom for a shower.

Xu Mingzhi glanced at him, just about to speak when suddenly his phone rang. He checked the caller—it was He Yu—so he quickly answered.

Ship schedules pay no heed to seasons or day and night. As long as conditions are right, vessels set sail at any time.

A high-grade, low-tier technique costs eleven hundred spirit stones to inherit, but since high-grade spiritual roots are rare, the discounted price is only nine hundred ninety-eight spirit stones.

It was precisely because Mi Tao sensed that Lu Ming was not simple, that he was willing to open the Martial Tower for him and give him a month’s time.

Nazha ran up to him and stretched out her hand to block the way. Wow, she was tall, with fair skin and striking features—a truly beautiful girl from the Great Frontier! And, indeed, she bore a remarkable resemblance to Guli Nazha.

But under the weight of fear, guilt slowly gnawed at his reason and composure. Perhaps, before long, he would be unable to control the bloodthirsty madness lurking deep within, and a desperate struggle would ensue.

Shui Yue’er spoke playfully, her face betraying neither regret nor the bitterness of missing the championship after all her efforts.

“Mom, didn’t you always tell me how hard things were when you were pregnant with Brother Binzi—how you’d go to the seaside in the bitter cold, belly full, weaving and mending nets? Why is it different now that it’s my turn?” Eldest Daughter complained with a hint of grievance.

“Palm strike.” Li Chao grabbed the blade with his left hand, while Li Shaoyu clung tightly to his sword, trying to retrieve it. He hadn’t expected Li Chao to exploit his desire to use the family sword technique, seizing the opportunity to launch a sneak attack with his right hand.

“Rest assured, Chief. The Zhang family swears absolute loyalty to Huaxia, and will never do anything to harm the country or its people!” At this moment, Zhang Tiance had to declare not only his own resolve, but that of his entire family.

Li Zhi understood her emotional shift well. After all, the wild fox had been dormant within her for eighteen years. Though their communication was only through thoughts, the fox’s spirit—infused with its demonic nature—would inevitably influence Shangguan Wan’er’s original temperament. This was what the wild fox referred to as the origin of their intimacy and sense of mutual recognition.

Seven days passed in a flash. Because Li Chao relaxed his grip on the Qiu Xia matter, the Sichuan campaign could employ a war of attrition, slowly wearing down the rebels.

Now, only one thing remained to be done: the Nangong family. Ning Yue had to go, not just for the secret within, but even more for the matter of Mengting.

At that moment, dozens of riders escorted two splendid steeds out from the ranks of the Ji Hu. The two riders wore warm hats threaded with gold and pearls, their waists cinched with six-ringed jade belts, feet clad in knee-high deer leather boots. They swung their whips, riding side by side, conversing and laughing as they surveyed the battlefield.

“Hey, what are you doing?” A clear, melodious voice sounded from the side. Chen Xian and Xiao Che both turned to look.

The shattering of the red thread allowed the vitality Ning Yue had bestowed to fully merge into Zuo Qiu Si’s body, continuously repairing his injuries.

Fang Wu and the others, their battles finished, prayed—not to the ancestors they had always revered, but to the heavens and spirits they once scorned. Wild men of the wasteland had never believed in gods, but for Wei Ling, they were willing to beg even the most elusive powers.