Twenty thousand and twenty

He waited for Zhang Youqiong to send Zhenchao to school, then insisted on going to the county committee office, where he knocked heavily on Liu Ying’s door.

"The wind stirs the heavens, the clouds roll across the eight directions." Amidst the shock of the gathered crowd, Yun Shitian’s cold voice emerged from the ink-like darkness.

After all, as far as that incident was concerned, the only ones truly harmed were her and Xu Weimiao; Mo Zixi just needed to find a graceful way to step down.

"...Third Brother?" A familiar voice sounded from behind. The Third Elder turned stiffly, only to see the young woman sitting half-upright on the bed—who else could it be but A'Qi?

Cats are exceptionally spiritual, and those that feed on the dead are even more so. It would not dig a hole in the ground for no reason. Just then, Butcher Zhang walked in with hot water; seeing the black cat digging at the corner of his wall, he broke into a cold sweat. Then, his temper flared, and grabbing a butcher knife from who knows where, he chased after the black cat, intent on killing it.

Gu Xin stared at that tiny flickering point, her hand unconsciously gripping Zhai An’s suit jacket, her palm damp with fear, crumpling his clothes into wrinkles.

She glanced casually, but upon catching sight of a white, fluffy lump, her mouth couldn't help but twitch.

Zhao Shu was greatly alarmed upon hearing this. He exchanged a look with Guo Huai, thinking to himself, how could Dong Xinlei have died? He hurriedly helped Tian Yi up and said, "General, please speak carefully. What happened to the Old Cave Master?" Tian Yi stood up, wiped away his tears, and began to recount the story in broken fragments.

The carriage ride took nearly five hours to reach home. Once inside, they realized there was no place like home; one’s own straw hut is better than someone else’s golden nest. No matter how nice another place is, it is still someone else’s home, and there is always a sense of discomfort. Now, back in their own house, they could do as they pleased.

Zhu Bajie was furious, spitting out, "You stinking fur-monster! How dare you bully your Grandpa Zhu? See if I don't peel your skin off!" He swung his nine-toothed rake in a wide, sweeping arc, the momentum as unstoppable as a rushing river.

As the Holy Son of the Holy World of Light, the Holy Son of Light possessed a holy relic as his trump card. However, holy relics generally consumed immense energy; every flicker of their power required a massive expenditure. If the power wasn't unleashed, they were little different from ordinary weapons, becoming a mere burden.

Such a king of soldiers from Huaxia, a madman feared by the underworld, was actually blushing and shy at this moment.

Whether it was the elite cavalry or ordinary rank-and-file soldiers, even a brush meant death, and a touch meant expiration. Watch as a ghost soldier on horseback charged directly toward Li Linhao’s face.

As he said this, he cast an intentional—or perhaps unintentional—glance at Meng Hanran, which immediately made the latter smile bitterly.

Shu Ao was originally a trusted aide to the Third Prince, Ji Chui. He had not agreed with the Third Prince's ambush plan, but unfortunately, among all the Third Prince’s subordinates, he was the only one who dissented, and thus he was naturally isolated.

His arms were as thick as pillars, his fists as large as houses, and he smashed them fiercely toward Lin Yi’s incoming fist.

The Brontoscorpio drew closer to Jin Shengzhe step by step. He stood like a stone statue, firmly rooted in place, not retreating a single inch.

Just as he caught sight of the coastline, he was attacked by sea monsters. Fortunately, Ying Chou’s strength was formidable; he abandoned the ship and struggled his way to the shore.

The Juque Academy forbade outsiders from entering. Wu Zetian’s maids and Di Renjie’s old servants had all been sent home, so there was no one left to prepare breakfast for them.

"Do not lose your composure; we shall proceed according to the plan!" Zhao Jin said in a low, grim voice to the other four heads of the great families.

Yuan Shao’s sons all knelt before his bed, crying out to him. Lady Liu had the attendants tell the sons that Yuan Shao needed to rest and asked them all to leave. The Yuan brothers had no choice but to depart.

Thinking of what had happened to her, Zhao Leilei fell silent. The Five Great Families had always been sacred, immaculate existences in her mind, but now she realized that was not the case at all, and she couldn't help but feel a bit saddened.

At this moment, the Wuji True Qi was incredibly powerful, but the Innate Purple Qi, which had always been Li Mu’s foundation, held the home-field advantage. As the two clashed, they were no longer gentle as before; instead, they were like two opposing wild beasts, locked in a frenzied battle.

"You—" The pockmarks on Lu Xiuqiang’s face twitched. Shen Feng had struck a nerve, and his facial muscles twisted in rage.

"You lot? What was that just now? I felt as if some bug entered our tribe’s territory, right near your home. Did you see anything?" A leader of the Heavenly Guards, a middle-stage Spirit Emperor, asked haughtily while hovering in the air atop a black eagle.

As the leader of a sect, how could Li Mu act like a brute and resort to violence so casually? If it weren't for the lack of good materials and a master blacksmith, Li Mu would have long since forged an incredibly powerful flying sword to show off his might.

From Crescent Bay to the execution platform, the stronger the naval officers were, the further back they were stationed. In front of the execution platform stood the Vice Admirals of Naval Headquarters, including several giants. Of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, only Blackbeard and Jinbe were absent; the other five were all present.

With a flash of light, Li Mu was resurrected on the spot. It was the light orb that had activated its restoration function in the final second before Li Mu’s consciousness shattered, allowing him to escape disaster. But before Li Mu could rejoice, a bolt of lightning struck down, as terrifying as a thunderbolt from the Nine Heavens, blasting him into dust.

There is a peculiar trait in the Wa nation: they will fight you, and if they win, they will flaunt their power and torture their opponent until they wish for death; if they lose, they submit to you, either committing ritual suicide or becoming your most subservient lackeys, doing whatever you say—they are no better than mangy dogs.