Chapter 34: Reaching an Agreement

Seeing someone get out of the vehicle, Yu Zhu gripped her dagger even tighter, ready to fight at a moment's notice.

Despite the other party's extreme caution, Su Ya did not draw the Five-Metal Sacred Hammer, choosing instead to reveal her nickname.

[Invincible Tyrannosaurus War God]

"Yu Zhu, it's me, Su Ya."

They had become friends on the third day of the game when they traded mileage cards. However, she wasn't certain if Yu Zhu still remembered, so—

"Impressive. Your temperament is truly top-tier." To see Dugu Hong fall asleep under such circumstances was genuinely shocking. Yet, this phenomenon also revealed that Dugu Hong was no ordinary person.

Having reclaimed the throne of the Xiang Kingdom, Murong Qi faced constant rumors among the populace during his reign that he was not the successor chosen by the late Emperor himself. They whispered that he had usurped the throne; thus, his rule lacked legitimacy. Even with the Imperial Seal in his possession, he could not silence the voices of dissent.

Even though the power of Josuke Higashikata's Crazy Diamond kept his physical body at the peak of his prime, it was not enough to change the public perception.

As for derailing the conversation, Papa Kirisame naturally had a knack for steering it back, though it was hardly a point of pride. He excelled at deliberately meddling with the mood and atmosphere of any situation.

"No, I must go. Some things need to be clarified." Meng Xiao took a deep breath. She knew the Mu family must have investigated the matter, including questioning the owner of the convenience store.

"I’m going! Who said I wasn't? I just came in here to get my clothes!" Mo Jiuqing sat up abruptly from the bed and immediately reached for her garments.

At that very moment, Ma Hu attacked King Hu again. His body shot forward like a bolt of lightning, his fist saturated with soul power, slamming directly toward King Hu’s chest.

But in truth, if I were to join the Dragon-Tiger Mountain and enter the Daoist sect, I would essentially transcend the realm of ordinary people, becoming something akin to a person of extraordinary talent.

"Have I ever told you that I despise noisy crows? Especially ones like you—ugly and loud female crows." Mo Jiuqing looked at Su Lian, her tone gentle. Her stunning, elegant face, now marred by a trace of hostility, seemed all the more sharp and defined.

The other party remained silent for a moment, and finally, a steady, gentle middle-aged man's voice sounded, unhurried and calm.

His eyes were filled only with the constant scrolling of virtual gifts; he was so distracted that he didn't even notice he had eaten the wrong flavor of tofu pudding.

"Guangling San" is the only surviving guqin piece that captures the atmosphere of spears, shields, and warfare. It is passionate, generous, and tragic. To convey such a complex array of emotions is incredibly difficult. Even now, perhaps only that elder, whose identity remains unspoken, could truly play "Guangling San" with its intended spirit.

Wujing kept his eyes tightly closed, lifting his head to gaze at the dark clouds. "This rain is not ordinary rain; it is transformed from the spiritual power of demons." It seemed Wujing had also sensed the truth.

"Listening to this sound, I feel as if I'm reminded of my brother," a netizen named 'Drowned in a Beer Mug' remarked with a sudden sigh.

Who would have thought? Using prisoners as cannon fodder before, only to end up as cannon fodder for others here—truly, the tides of fortune turn in thirty years.

Then, led by Coach Ru, the Beijing team players lined up to exit the school gates, boarded the school bus, and headed for the square.

The man wore silver armor, a sword hung at his waist, and his face was covered in a thick, bushy beard.

"You... your boss?" The retainer’s eyes widened in terror as he struggled to turn his head toward the figure of Ye Feng, who was already far away.

Inside the room, Quan Shaoting lay on Su Weiwu’s bed. A piece of her nightwear, resembling a red dudou, lay at the corner of the bed, faintly carrying her scent. He clutched it tightly. Just imagining that red fabric against her snow-white skin, tracing her graceful curves, made his blood surge uncontrollably in one direction.