Chapter 56: As One Rises, Another Falls

Luo Lie had met Tang Yu before. Back then, Tang Yu was timid and submissive, only acting according to Su Li’s wishes. Who could have imagined that in just a few years, this young emperor would possess such poise?

As someone who risked his life on the battlefield, Luo Lie was used to others not even daring to raise their voices before him. Now, in the emperor’s presence, he could only cower in fear. “Your Majesty, please quell your anger. How could I dare entertain such thoughts?” he stammered anxiously.

“You’re quite the confident one, aren’t you?” Xia Qing drawled from the side, her tone ambiguous, leaving it unclear whether she was mocking or teasing him.

It turned out that Qiao Shiba hoped Shiyin would help him promote his porcelain. He’d consulted Steward Yang and learned that this celadon long-necked vase was unique to the Qiao family—no other household in the entire county possessed such a thing. Its price was considerable, five taels of gold, and of course, the quantity wasn’t small either.

While they all knew Ling Jiuxuan was by no means weak—certainly not as feeble as some of the disciples of the Intercepting Sect claimed—he surely couldn’t take on all six of these people alone, could he?

Earlier, she had noticed that when Ling Jiuxuan was with Hong Qianzhi, his gaze was particularly drawn to that pair of flawless jade legs.

It was only then that Qian Yun Yue realized he wore nothing but a pair of shorts. Could it be…? He glanced at Liu Rumei, who seemed utterly unfazed, as though this was all perfectly routine. She helped him dress with practiced ease, even smoothing out the creases in his clothes with care.

If he wanted to stay at the Qiao residence, his explanation would have to be watertight. He couldn’t possibly claim he’d traveled through time, nor confess that he was pursuing the two Qiao sisters—such things belonged only in television comedies. He needed to devise the most suitable identity.

These plants, too, embodied the vitality and energy of the space. Clearly, the grassland was the most fundamental state of this dimensional space.

He chose to begin with the simplest tasks—not for the higher reward, but for greater safety—building his strength step by step.

Ji Yuan pressed a hand to his forehead, while Xia Qing was at a loss for words. There was no denying that Jia Siyuan was truly pitiable. Shen Wenli had clearly figured him out; she had no fear of such cowardice.

Lei Li extended his right hand, picturing the Thunder God’s golden blade in his mind. In the next instant, a streak of violet-gold lightning flashed across his palm, and the domineering Thunder God’s blade materialized in his grasp.

In truth, he wasn’t wrong—Lin Yun did, to some extent, rely on his strength. What he lacked was the understanding that comes from facing life and death.

These last few chapters have been heart-wrenching for Luyin—ah, I really don’t like writing tragedies, not one bit... But what can be done? The plot demands it.

Actually, the actions of the nameless manga artist matched Master Fusheng’s expectations: he and Mountain Wind could only face off honorably, through manga; no tricks or shortcuts would work.

Li Ningyu had his reasons for what he did, but the moment he announced a campaign at 1 p.m., he threw himself into a flurry of activity.

“Get lost, you’re disgusting! When trouble comes, you think of us, but when you’re feasting and drinking, you don’t bother!” Fire Phoenix then turned to Ice Serpent, grinning, “Hey, boss, you’re early. Come here for a hug!” She spread her arms and strode toward Ice Serpent.

Lin Xuan had also seen the barrage of comments. He waved over Yu Die, took her phone, and slowly descended, coming to stand before Qiongqi.

As for the Americans’ suggestion, it was this: let the U.S. authorities intervene, enforce a ceasefire for several years, and then let the two sides settle the score later.

No, dragons would never reside in human dwellings. They looked down on humans as inferior beings, considering their houses flimsy—able to be toppled with a single push—far less secure than rocky caves, and utterly incapable of protecting their treasures.

The griffin’s body was resilient and enormous. Its sharp, rock-hard claws had just deflected everyone’s weapons, while Nangong Wentian’s own hands were drenched in blood, the sleeves of his arm torn into strips.