Chapter Eighty-Seven: Ouyang's True Nature Suddenly Returns

Afterwards, the two men prepared ingredients in the kitchen while the two women played Nintendo in the living room.

Zhao Jinchen’s wife was quite fond of the game console. At first, Fang Zhiyin was too shy to speak, but the other woman warmly invited her to join in and even taught her step by step.

Soon the two of them entered battle mode together.

Fortunately, Fang Zhiyin was a quick learner. She picked it up right away, and the two hit it off immediately. After a few rounds, they were already chatting comfortably, with none of the initial awkwardness or hesitation.

From the kitchen, Zhao Jinchen glanced at them and then said to Ouyang Junyan, “Ouyang, I just saw a flicker of sadness in your eyes. Was that my imagination?”

“Senior…” Ouyang Junyan was momentarily taken aback.

“Come on, with my charm, who knows who would end up leaving whom!” Li Dejun rolled his eyes dramatically, retorting. He clasped his hands behind his head, lounged back on the bed, and swung one leg over the other, looking utterly relaxed.

Wanwan glared fiercely at Qin Tian, barely restraining the urge to chop him to pieces and feed him to the dogs. Did he have to say something so fake? So nauseating? And… where exactly was his hand wandering?

“I didn’t expect someone to be in the restroom!” Ampei Takuya said to the three of them with a wry smile.

Yang Bo felt sick to his stomach listening to this—how could a bunch of farmers possibly wipe out a band of outlaws? Was this some kind of international joke?

Tang Zhongwang was on the verge of collapse. He couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong. During the exam, in order to avoid the mistakes he made in the mock test, he’d checked everything several times, even erasing and rewriting his exam number on the English answer sheet. Could he have made another mistake?

“It’s just that we don’t have heavy armor for protection. If we had the Salt Guard’s equipment and discipline, and stuck together, what would we have to fear from cavalry? How did Grandpa Yue defeat the Mongol horsemen back then? If you ask me, you lot are the ones who keep praising those barbarian riders to the skies…” someone countered angrily.

In a rush, they hurried along, and after a little more than twenty minutes, Guo Tian smoothly parked a Toyota police SUV in front of the Qingyuan City Public Security Bureau.

Liu Yan looked at the scene before her, a few black lines appearing on her forehead. Did this guy not know how to be a little more reserved, a little more dignified?

After hearing Xiao Cheng’s words, everyone felt reassured, their hearts settling. They now faced the impending tribulation with greater confidence.

It was just a single charge, with no coordinated formations, no teamwork between heavy and light cavalry—everyone fought their own battles, chasing and striking at will.

Ye Qianmo was puzzled. “What does this have to do with the Grand Princess?” Could the Grand Princess possibly climb the Broken Arm Mountain?

Milan twirled a lock of her long, wavy hair around her finger. Even as she sipped her iced drink, the smile on her lips couldn’t be hidden.

Hearing this, Murong nodded. Although she hadn’t actually worked much today, shopping with Song Coco had worn her out. Heading home early to rest seemed the wisest course.

Tian Nuanyu looked around the private room. The space was very spacious, with three plain white walls and one floor-to-ceiling glass wall, offering a sweeping view of the city’s nightscape.

“This doesn’t seem like a place fit for living,” Leng Yue said, frowning as she surveyed the desolation. Beyond the crumbling ruins lay a cemetery, flickering with ghostly flames.

Yu Xie instinctively wanted to resist—she truly didn’t like people touching her. Reaching this point was already the limit of her tolerance. But the scent of the ointment was pleasant—very pleasant, in fact, warm and comforting—so she let the other woman do as she pleased, stretching out her arms and legs.

“Let’s keep moving. The air’s getting fresher. I think the territory of the Witch Clan can’t be far now,” Mo Ran said casually, urging the group onward to continue with their mission.

So, as soon as Song Lin entered the central hall arm in arm with the mayor of City A, the crowd gathered tightly around them.

Murong Chen gave her a long, searching look. Unfortunately, his face was hidden too well behind a golden mask, and Ye Qianmo didn’t notice. “I want to settle her worries before telling her everything,” he thought. “Just as you said, Momo, once the time comes, you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”