Spring's Promise Amid the Snow (7)

Emperor Xia Jing was in no mood to listen to pleas or words meant to strike at a man when he was down. Yet, when the eunuch suggested it, he felt that perhaps meeting them would not be so bad, and nodded in agreement. Though exhausted, his physical fatigue paled in comparison to the sorrow and guilt weighing upon his heart.

“You’re finally back! If you hadn’t returned soon, I’d have gone out myself,” came the distant, complaining voice of Ziling. Few knew that after a eunuch was purified, he would preserve his most vital part, so that when his life waned, he might have a complete body for burial.

The photo handed over by the security chief showed Cheng Yan, alluring and radiant, flashing a captivating smile at the camera.

The contents of the letter surprised Lin Chen greatly. Printed in standard font were the words: “I am a reporter from Hongjing Evening News. I know the truth behind Director Li’s abduction. If you wish to know as well, call me.”

Facing Jia Xu’s inquiry, Yu Du gasped for breath, turned to glance in the direction of Yuan Shao’s camp, and answered.

Since there was nothing to eat here, and it was nighttime, the beasts should be resting unless someone entered. If they were startled and began to call out, it would surely draw people from within to investigate.

Such carefree days were certainly pleasant, but the stagnation of life could breed boredom. Just at this time, Yuan Zhen contacted me, saying a family’s house was up for sale. Yet from his description, it didn’t seem haunted, as the residents were still alive.

It seems the Buddha’s decision to let the mischievous monkey reside on Spirit Mountain was not without reason. If this fellow regained his strength and learned proper conduct, he might become a formidable warrior of Spirit Mountain. Because of this, Golden-headed Revealer was even more humble, holding Sun Wukong in high esteem.

So at this moment, Murong Xue’s unprecedented desire for death was simply to see him one last time; the resentment in his eyes was unprecedentedly intense and poisonous.

Just as they planned to continue their escape, a chilly voice drifted faintly into the ears of the bears.

Miho Kanno took the script, sat on the prepared chair in the room, and began to read it intently. Ye Zhao removed the watch from her wrist and held it in her hand, confirming the five-minute mark.

Furthermore, the truth was far less straightforward. Yesterday, Wan Tianxiong’s impulsiveness was entirely caused by Huang Xiang’s machinations. She deliberately hesitated when explaining, creating misunderstandings.

Tang Chan smiled sweetly, and Zhicheng responded with a smile just as sweet, only for Tang Chan’s face to suddenly turn cold.

After all the contestants performed today, the production team would announce tomorrow’s song theme. The contestants would have tonight and the following day to select and practice their songs, with the evening bringing a ruthless elimination round.

However, before he could finish speaking, one of the men struck first, landing a merciless punch to Song Li’s stomach. Song Li choked, his pupils dilated, and the pain forced him to bend over, his face turning ashen.

This piece was mainly targeted at him; compared to others, he bore greater pressure and had to give his all.

Old Zhang, if not for years spent weathering storms and managing his affairs, would have aged well. Yet the knife of time had carved so many marks into the face of this man, barely fifty, that he appeared at least sixty.

Men discussing matters? The implication was clear—her cousin was not a man. If someone else had said this, a fight might have broken out, or at least there would have been angry looks. Yet when it came to her cousin, he merely held back for a while, his face red, and quietly took Yang Lirin to another room.

Mary and her sister were stunningly beautiful, capable of stirring anyone’s heart—even his, though they were already so familiar.

As the two were lost in thought, a breath of death approached, the air around them trembling and hissing. Yi Yun and his companion felt the blood chill within them, even their clothes forming a layer of frozen blood.

Traditional espionage formed a decreasing proportion, while more and more agents like Jill collected and assessed open information. In the intelligence system, their roles were not necessarily the lowest.

“President Zhao, it’s easy to talk when you’re not suffering,” Cheng Zhanzhi replied with a dark face. He had just endured the wrath of his superior, being thoroughly scolded.

Yet even as the sun was high in the sky, the Wen family had not come out to begin collecting fees. By the time Sima Yun and his group arrived at the foot of the mountain, the crowd was already immense.

Wang Jin realized his attitude was wrong and hurried over to explain to Bledsoe. Bledsoe understood Wang Jin’s feelings, so they exchanged a handshake and made peace.

Still, when these words were spoken to the demonic cultivator, he sneered. In his eyes, He Shaoji was truly a bit naïve. Who would believe such claims? Did he really expect a mere sentence to scare someone off?