Chapter Fifty-Two: He Wants to Act?
When Fang Zhiyin heard Ouyang’s question, she was at a loss for how to respond. “It’s… like interacting with different personalities of the same person,” she finally said, after searching for the right words for a long time.
Ouyang Junyan seemed disheartened. “I really want to see you with… Wait!” He suddenly caught the key point in her words. “You mean, besides me, there’s more than one personality?”
Fang Zhiyin forced a smile. “Does that bother you?”
“How could it not!” Ouyang Junyan could hardly believe it. “What are the other personalities like? How do they manage the company?”
Fang Zhiyin, suddenly annoyed, gave him a shove.
“What’s with you?”
“Look at yourself, there’s no need to be so tense—”
But there were still some powerful demon beasts that remained in the Cloud Desolation Mountains, especially deep within, where many extremely formidable creatures lurked.
After their shopping, the two of them strolled in and out of cafes and cinemas together. By now, they cared little for prying eyes, so even when the paparazzi trailed them relentlessly for most of the day, they made no attempt to dodge like celebrities so often did.
“What’s going on with you people? We’re here to help, and yet you won’t let us in—what kind of attitude is that!” Firefinch couldn’t help but exclaim.
She let her hair down, found her selfie stick, and, bare, clean, and with utmost devotion, lay on the bed and began taking selfies. With each photo, she shifted into a new pose—enticing, half-exposed, soulfully melancholy, provocatively alluring, brimming with passion and desire—and sent the whole collection to Lin Zhongheng.
The gray-haired butler was caught red-handed at the Foreign Affairs Mansion. As the police escorted him out, hundreds of media outlets waiting outside surged forward in a frenzy.
Over the past few months, Sheng Quan’s secret recruitment and training efforts had yielded remarkable results. Hundreds of North African militants, fierce and battle-hardened, caused significant trouble for our forces.
“You think Chang’an is some kind of sacred capital, the emperor’s city, the model metropolis? You’re wrong—this is Dingbei, this is the Valley at Dusk, this is a battlefield!” Zhang Youchi’s voice rose as well.
His chill came from deep within his bones, but now he let it fall away, leaving only warmth.
Mother Han thought the time was right, so after swiping the phone to answer, she put it on speaker and set it by the bathroom window, then stepped several meters away.
“I’m not taking it. You collected it yourself, so you deal with it,” Lin Zihan replied coldly.
The Great General of the Left Martial Guard, Xiao Yifei?! The young man opened his mouth but, in the end, left crestfallen. Though his family held some influence, if Xiao Yifei truly wanted the Number One Celestial Suite, even a hundred borrowed lives would not give him the courage to start trouble.
Under the opponent’s overwhelming pressure, Wu Feng suddenly achieved perfect unity between man and blade. His grasp of the Dao broadened, and his resolve became even firmer.
On that young, impassive face, Feng Wuqing’s eyes suddenly opened. Rising from a sea of blood, he came to a stop at Long Hai’s side.
It is easy for a man to crush an ant. If ants had feelings and could express them, they would likely beg for mercy, and even take pride in serving as human servants, for a single crumb bestowed at random could sustain them for a long time.
The fighting inside the tent finally roused the armored guards outside. Blazing torches formed a circle, encircling the tent in tightly packed layers, sealing off every possible escape.
“Doctor Shen Yuntian told you to take it, so take it,” Lin Xinying quickly shot Shen Yun a look.
Long Hai, somewhat puzzled, ordered everyone to prepare for battle and glanced at Emperor Ling, who seemed equally perplexed.
Upon hearing this, Zisang Wu Ze stiffened slightly, his mind filling with the beautiful dreams Lin Xi had described. The vision unfurled in his mind, stirring endless ripples that lingered on and on.
It hardly mattered, really—a fine weapon’s worth still depends on its wielder’s skill.
Lin Xinying’s mind went blank for a moment, but judging by their tone, something serious was indeed afoot. From Kuangsheng’s words, it sounded like an organization dedicated to world peace. She could only nod in agreement, since it was clear that everyone present knew someone had just been here.