49 Holding the Sword Without Regret

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Chunyu Yan applauded loudly, but with a swift turn of his blade, he sheathed it and unexpectedly retreated, flying toward the severed arm of Chang Qing.
Hearing the tone in Shen Tingchuan’s voice, Ye Qingqing immediately knew that Shen Tingchuan was displeased with what she had said.
Sure enough, halfway through their flight, a strong gust of wind buffeted the flying vessel, causing it to shake violently. Li Si struggled to control both his posture and the vessel, momentarily flustered; the wind was simply too fierce.
“Where would be a good place to store all these things?” Bai Hui glanced around the house, thinking that Bai Shu would soon be walking. Given his knack for destruction, it wouldn’t be surprising if he tore something apart at any moment.
Early the next morning, Xu Yaoning saw Lin Jiaruo emerging from the room holding something in her arms, her face etched with reluctance.
Bamboo lifted his head again, and sure enough, their own cook approached steadily, clutching a bundle of something, eyes fixed straight ahead.
The Tianwu City formed an allied army to resist the New Nation’s invasion and appointed this very man as the leader of the coalition forces.
He looked at the bronze sphere beside him; though his face betrayed no unusual emotion, at times his vacant eyes stared at Murong the War God. Coke was a good friend who knew him well. Now he must resemble himself greatly. He could not accept the fact that he was the invincible partner of Murong the War God.
“Mr. Chang’s humor is truly delightful. Look at me—I still have so much to do, yet coming here has made me forget everything. Shaoqi, remember to take good care of Mr. Chang; I must get busy now.” Wu Hongjun could no longer stay and hastily found an excuse to slip away.
His body was not outwardly oriented but had become a self-sustaining cycle, as if the world were expanding, continuously turning and growing.
This was not merely a visual change; it had ceased to be seen with the eyes and was instead perceived by the heart.

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Wang Zilong spoke calmly, his unmatched domineering aura fully exposed, radiating a composed power. Upon seeing this, Xiang Shaofan sighed softly and withdrew his gaze. This middle-aged man was immensely strong; just one glance made him feel as if his spirit was about to shatter.
After all, Dior possessed powers similar to the “Purple Hermit,” capable of sensing their movements across vast mountains and rivers.
Avoiding trouble yet unafraid of it—in other words, not striking proactively but promptly communicating with headquarters when situations arise, seizing opportunities when possible, and retreating timely if not, only ensuring no losses.
Upon seeing the color of this radiance, Xisa, who had previously learned of similar phenomena from Teacher Lisa Lisa, was greatly shocked, his face changing dramatically.
Within less than ten years, Bailian recruited over sixty fourth-generation disciples at once, doubling their numbers. Many third-generation disciples had become teachers, senior uncles, and grandmasters.
Amidst the sound of ceremonial gunfire, twelve fully loaded iron ingot-laden tall ships left the docks in succession, sailing out of the harbor. Finally, the Keelung and Kaohsiung vessels also departed, heading toward the deep blue sea.
The three Taoists blushed deeply upon hearing Liu Long’s words, embarrassed beyond measure, and prepared to leave.
Fang Heng smiled, cupped his fists in greeting, and in the next moment grasped Mo Yun’s hand; with a flash, they vanished instantly.
Having witnessed many childbirth scenes, it was the first time Fang Heng saw a man newly elevated to fatherhood not first reveling in holding his child but instead rushing to his wife with a fervent declaration of love.
Yun Xiu ignored him, entered the room, and threw a new cup onto the table. Then, from her sleeve, she produced a porcelain bottle, pulled out a pill, and dropped it into the cup.
Wu Qian would never believe the innkeeper’s lies, yet lacking evidence, he wore a dark expression, grabbed a stick from the ground, and struck the innkeeper’s head fiercely. The stick broke, the innkeeper’s head split open, blood gushing, and he fainted.

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The intricate European-style curtains swayed gently with the breeze, and the flowers and plants by the balcony, tired after a day under the sun, drooped wearily.
In those days, marriages were first arranged by family background. If both parties were well-matched, they would inquire about the girl’s talents and appearance, as well as the family’s traditions. Even though the Rongguo Mansion had been demoted in rank, it was still among the top noble families in the capital. Such a pedigree was acceptable for any match.
“What is there to fear? Since they are demons, you and I will go over and simply drive them away.” Saying this, his anger surged, and he was about to kick open the door opposite. Nearby guards immediately dared to block him.
“Lin Yuhao, you’re so bad! How could you secretly take photos?” Chu Ning stood up and pounded Lin Yuhao vigorously. This was a shameful memory for her, unaware it had long been captured in photographs and kept for so many years by the man before her.
Compared to their earlier groping through the mist, hope now seemed much closer—they at least knew what needed to be done.
Only hometown cuisine suited the palate! Foreign steaks and hamburgers were tasteless, barely edible. Having spent six years in America, Chen Chumo never accepted Western flavors.
Since he had made such a ruthless decision, he should give her no more hope. Lin Yuhao did not understand why he had become so unfeeling and cold, but unless he cruelly withdrew from this triangular entanglement, the three of them would remain trapped forever.