Chapter 62: Not So Good

Lin Lu packed up and returned to Dreamweaver.

During her lunch break, she called Zhou Ruikang.

“Su Yi’s condition isn’t good. She was in surgery all night. It’s uncertain whether she’ll ever dance again.”

Lin Lu forced a smile. Su Yi was truly ruthless, even to herself—like mother, like daughter.

...

Her love for Mo Cheng had long since been worn away by the lonely years spent in the deep palace, leaving only hatred and a lingering sense of resentment.

Teacher Wang refused to accept this reality; he couldn’t believe that such an outstanding student had died just like that.

Perhaps it was because he knew Mo Yuan’s character so well—even though he spoke of Mo Yuan’s stern and silent nature, a smile still crept onto Zhe Yan’s face.

After the song, the men’s eyes were red with tears, and once again, Mai Haoran was startled by their display.

Xie Xiong began to drink more heavily and his drunken rages grew more frequent. One time, he drank until his lips turned blue, his hands trembled, and his eyes stared vacantly while the veins on his neck pulsed. When Xiao Lin tried to take his glass away, he lashed out with his fist, his face twisted with rage, beating her until her nose was bruised and swollen.

The moment this news was announced, it sparked immediate support from people all over the country. Newspapers rushed to report on it, and countless patriots flocked northward, determined to join the army and overthrow the Bald Chiang government.

Xie Qingyi said, “It’s true my Wang Manjun’s elder brother is a member of the county committee, but the law does not favor kin, nor does etiquette humble the commoner. If one is in the right, one can travel the world; without reason, not a single step can be taken.”

“You’re like a dog—why bite me again? Let go.” Because the two children were sleeping on the bed behind her, Wang Guihua didn’t dare raise her voice, afraid to wake them and cause trouble.

“You are my wife, the empress of this world. That will never change,” Jing Cheng declared, boldly pulling the empress into his embrace.

Because of its proximity to the city outskirts, the prince had fortified the place like an impregnable fortress. Every corner was monitored with comprehensive, 360-degree surveillance, and in some areas, there were even automatic silenced firearms installed.

For reasons he could not fathom, his heart—which had remained undisturbed for ages—was gently stirred by a bowl of wild vegetable soup.

The flames consumed Di Shitian, Xiao Sanxiao, and Xiongba, reducing them to ashes. When they reached Jian Chen’s side, they paused for a moment before extinguishing him as well.

It was truly fascinating—vampires were indeed different from cultivators and Eastern martial artists. Blood was their very source of power. Even after reaching the imperial level, their transformations were fueled by the acceleration and frenzy of blood.

“Let’s go, get in the car!” Zhou Bo called out. Once everyone was aboard, the rescue vehicle sped off in a cloud of dust.

When the competition ended, the crowd gradually dispersed. Many had come from afar, but most were members of the Kaizhu Chess Club. Their own club’s victory—especially over Kong Jie, the so-called super genius—left them all elated. Many returned to their seats to analyze the game that had just concluded.

There was once a foolish reporter who mentioned Mister Fantastic in front of Doctor Doom. That very night, the reporter was found dead, over a hundred kilometers away in a mountain ravine.

Faced with Wu Yan’s sarcasm, he had no idea how to respond. He feared that if he opened his mouth, he’d only be humiliated in public again. So he simply kept silent, saying nothing.

Lilith could not understand why Besta trusted that Mr. Lin so much. On the contrary, she was filled with bitter hatred toward her failed target. She didn’t believe for a moment he would come to save her—most likely, he’d already been devoured by the hunting beasts.

Meanwhile, the primordial energy within him, which had been suppressing the metallic force, was gradually weakening, a sign that his time was running out.

Unlike the deep tone of his usual speech, his voice during recitation was clear, resonant, and carried a unique charm.