Chapter Seventy-Two: Ouyang Is Especially Different Today

As expected, Linlin Chen didn’t dare say another word. Then, Wenbin Situ glanced at her, then at Junyan Ouyang. “So right now, it’s…”

“I’m taking this artist of yours out for a talk,” Junyan Ouyang said as he checked the time. “I’ll bring her back to you in ten minutes.”

…There’s really no need! Wenbin Situ thought privately.

After that, Linlin Chen obediently followed Junyan Ouyang out.

“Ouyang…” Linlin Chen felt that the man before her was like someone else entirely. She didn’t even dare speak, nor breathe too loudly.

She hadn’t expected that what Junyan Ouyang had just shown her was a photo of her looking intimate with a male celebrity who was also not yet twenty!

Recalling that day in the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, that sense of danger made her shiver all over. White Impermanence said, “Brother, this is a tricky one.”

A grown man knelt before her, weeping like a child. She remembered that summer, leading him home by the hand. He had woken from a dream crying just like this, sobbing uncontrollably, impossible to comfort.

The two of them sat on the floor, a crude wooden table between them, on which Mu Yan had placed some stolen wine and dishes.

Madam Han rose, slowly walked over, and lifted Lian Qing into her arms, setting her on the nearby chair. Lian Song and his son Lian Ji did not stop her, but sat together, watching Madam Han’s feeble movements, her despairing gaze, and her tear-stained face, all of which greatly amused them.

Shi Jin, on the other hand, was awkward and clumsy, fumbling to remove her clothes. There was no heat in the room and she felt cold, while Shi Jin broke out sweating, his eyes slightly reddened.

After this meeting, Todd made up his mind to establish an intelligence and surveillance organization in Twilight West Town and to initiate residency-based population management.

So, when that arrow was blocked by the combined efforts of two quasi-saints, there was nothing else that could be done.

As for Minami Aikawa and his companions, they had long been displeased with the man’s arrogance. Li Yi killed him, but it had nothing to do with them—they could simply pretend they hadn’t seen a thing.

The gatekeeping disciple bowed again. “Master, the head of Silver Spirit Mountain is requesting an audience. He’s waiting at the front gate.”

The next day, the wedding banquet began. Tens of thousands of tables were arranged, each seating ten, and every table was laden with delicious food.

What unsettled her even more was that the man was holding a child who bore a striking resemblance to Lady Liu.

When Sike Yan heard what Lady Liu said, a sense of foreboding crept into his heart. He vaguely sensed that her words had to do with the invisible barrier between them. But…what exactly was it? Lord Shaoyang was perplexed.

The brothers San Chi and Si Chi were locked in fierce battle, while Zhou Xuan rewarded them with a brilliant, intricate chess puzzle.

A string of numbers rolled off Tian Lu’s tongue, echoing through the silent conference room, gradually stirring the emotions of all the assembled physicians.

Because their car veered slightly, the bullet aimed at the rear tire instead struck the wheel’s steel rim.

Over the years, Oras had gathered quite a few star players. What he wanted was for them to get results, not just play beautifully.

Pure elemental energy from the supreme elemental crystals was slowly absorbed by Lin Feng, converted into his own elemental force, and bit by bit, his injuries began to heal.

One half of the two-headed dragon was consumed by flames, the other by icy fire. The flames scorched the void, the frostfire froze it.

Zhou Xuan sipped his tea unhurriedly before speaking: “Prefect Xu, forgive my frankness—” He purposely paused. Prefect Xu’s face paled, thinking his three sons were utterly hopeless.

Right now, her affection for him was entirely because he looked to be her age—exceedingly handsome, gentle as jade, and delightfully good-natured.

“But I can’t let you bear all that suffering. My heart can’t stand it.” Xia Nuanyan’s “Brother Changhong”—as if called across mountains and rivers—was so difficult, so precious, and so faint. He had not heard the word “brother” addressed to him in such a long, long, long time.