Chapter Ninety-One: The Prime Minister of Qin’s Far-Sighted Stratagem

Ye Cheng was still pondering how to deal with Wu Qihao’s successive maneuvers, while Wu Qihao had already moved on to the second step of his plan.

Liuzhou, the Wu family villa.

“Young Master Qin, you’ve been locked up at home by the old master for so long. It can’t have felt good. Take this check, spend it however you like, and when it’s gone I’ll prepare another one for you.”

...

They all knew that, as the economic center of Asia, Hong Kong was not only a financial hub but also a transport powerhouse, one of the pillars of its economy and a decisive force in its development.

“No, don’t throw it away.” Seeing several foxes emerge from the house, their bodies torn and bloodied, he felt that he had gone too far and immediately called off the plan. King Jiushan followed him out as well. Seeing the Thunder Bomb on the ground, he instantly understood what had happened.

“We are about to open the Witch Clan ruins. Everyone, fall back!” King Seven Seas said in a deep voice, his tone thick with displeasure and filled with murderous intent, surging outward like a roaring tsunami that made even the void tremble.

“Fine. Since you said it first, I’ll trust you this once. I suppose you have no intention of harming me.” In truth, it would have been as easy as breathing to kill the person before me, but I had no such intention. Right now, I only wanted to cooperate properly with him.

The more Guo Ran thought about it, the paler he became. For him to casually reveal such a secret to me without the slightest concern—did that mean he trusted me too much, or did he think I was simply incapable of leaking it? Knowing such a top-secret matter left Guo Ran deeply uneasy.

Zhou Jielun was almost bursting up from the ground to kiss Wu Hua, but he knew the importance of the situation and forced himself to remain still.

Chu Ning thought it over and felt that Lin Yuhao had a point. If Lin Yuhan kept following them around in the future, it would indeed be rather awkward, and he himself would probably be unwilling as well; otherwise, he would not have reached the bottom of Lin Yuhao’s building and still refused to go up.

The crowd’s faces changed color. Just now, when Long Qing fired, they had no time to react at all. Even more terrifying was the fact that they had not even sensed Long Qing’s hostility. It was as though whatever Long Qing was about to do was merely an ordinary matter, one that posed no threat to them whatsoever.

Thus, the handful of beggars led the Jinfeng Empire emperor away and back to the temple where they lived.

The Marquis of Wu’an’s residence was an illustrious noble house ennobled through military merit. Its present status had all been earned by the older generation through bloodshed on the battlefield. Since war was war, there was no room for choice, and they naturally had fought several bitter battles with Tang Mu.

Song Weili stared at her in shock. How could she say such a thing? In her eyes, was he really such a despicable person?

All around them was pitch-black darkness, and beneath their feet stretched an abyss so deep it seemed bottomless. Only the stars hanging high in the vault of heaven cast a faint, scattered light, illuminating this expanse.

After leaving the imperial palace, Inoue Kaoru looked wretched and haggard, his heart seething with unquenched fury, his old face even more sullen than before.

At 1:30 p.m., the Chaoyong sank. Her sister ship, the Yangwei, was badly damaged. While Yangwei was heading toward shallow waters in an attempt to save herself, she was struck amidships by the faster-fleeing protected cruiser Jiyuan. Not long after, she sank, and her captain, Lin Luzhong, took his own life in despair.

As the two ate, a middle-aged man hurried into the company. He had come to see Huang Lianhong.

“Actually, you’re not a bad person.”

Those words drifted from Li Tianfeng’s mouth and into Wentian Ge’s ears.

What nonsense this is about man conquering nature, about my fate being mine and not heaven’s—pah. Even ghosts would not believe it.

Today, by all accounts, was the laziest day he had had since crossing over, though he had still done plenty of physical work.

Rock music is a cry, a voice that rises from the heart. These people, at best, are just shouting at the top of their lungs.