Volume One, Chapter 61: This Was Not a Gentle Kiss—It Was an Aggressive One

As she rounded the corner of the corridor, Fu Yuting used the last remnants of her self-control to press the micro-tracker hidden beneath her nail into a crevice in the ornamental pattern of the wall sconce. This was her final safeguard—if Bo Xingzhou returned to look for her, at least he could follow this signal and find a clue.

He feared what he might do, so he found himself an excuse, convincing himself to make a hasty retreat.

The next morning, as the two Helian family carriages set off toward Xiangguo Temple, another group quietly followed behind.

...He Ya glanced at her speechlessly—this girl was truly earnest, but did she never consider that if she were truly so capable, she’d have conjured up mountains of gold and silver long ago and disappeared without a trace?

Their misfortune played out again and again amidst the jeering and curses of the fierce wolves, punctuated by wild blows. Who knew how many tables and chairs were smashed, how many heroes left exhausted and sprawled across the floor?

Luo Qingyue watched silently as Jun Wuxie carried Luo Yu away. As that shadowy figure disappeared from her sight, she found, for reasons she could not fathom, a thin sheen of sweat on her palms.

Whatever I do, it’s just a smile. Steeling myself, I let a deep smile spread across my lips and walked toward Chen Muyang.

“Are you sure you want to?” Jun Wuxie’s face darkened completely. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to smack Luo Yu, but in the end, he could only think about it—if it came to actually striking, he would never bear it.

After speaking, he strode out. Sun Yaozu, of course, hurried after him, his face arranged into a deliberately mysterious expression.

After Jinyang helped Bo Rui don his helmet again, he habitually glanced toward where Lin Shenshen was, only to see her flung from her horse like a kite with its string cut.

“This stick of incense will last about an hour. When it’s burned out, Your Highness may come down,” Mu Ge said patiently, gazing down at the inverted Ximen Jinyuan.

“You said the ‘Ultimate’ was mysterious. How could you be one of them? Were you lying to me all along?” Lu Jun demanded.

Something about the words seemed to touch a nerve. He unconsciously furrowed his brow, coldly refusing, “No, just go straight to the company.”

Two deaths with one body—the charges against White Cloud Studio had grown by another life. Bai Ranran instinctively took two steps back, as if Lin Duoduo had come to claim her life in retribution.

Yi Jiazhen took a closer look and was startled to see Tong Ran lying motionless on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa.

At Ye Ming’s house, his phone suddenly chimed with a new message. He opened it to find it was from Li Mengyao: “Tomorrow, you have to come to school, and you have to pick me up. If you sleep in, I won’t talk to you.”

Lu Jun had no idea who Chen Yuxin really was, but his instincts told him she was far from ordinary—perhaps even more formidable than Wang Tao’s background.

Lan Yanfeng paused again—how did this girl even know who made his coffee? He scrutinized Bai Ranran with a searching look. By chance, Bai Ranran understood perfectly.

“The third sword—you won’t be able to dodge this one...” A cold, indifferent voice suddenly sounded in the young man’s ear, and in the next instant, a sword pierced his throat.

The day before Yan’s mother and father returned from their trip, she came home unexpectedly. The finger marks on her face had yet to fade, yet she refused to utter a word about what had happened, still laughing and joking as if nothing had occurred.

Su Ke clamped Mu Cheny’s ears tight and rushed through everything she had to say, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over her.

Casting a guilty glance at Luo Lin, who had just closed the door, Ron flicked his tongue, smoothed his furry paw, and swiftly disposed of all evidence of his pilfered snack.

Yan Yan’s grip tightened on the silverware, her lowered eyes fixed on the foie gras in her plate. As expected, what she disliked remained unpalatable—no matter how appetizing it appeared, only she knew the taste in her mouth.