Chapter Ninety-Three: You Are You, He Is He

Fang Zhiyin glanced at Zhao Jinchen with gratitude. If he had not been so considerate, she and Ouyang Junyan would probably have had to stay here for two more hours, playing games and chatting and the like.

For a show to work, the guests had to take part and interact with one another in order to make it more entertaining.

Quietly sitting down to eat held little appeal at all.

Yet after Fang Zhiyin had taken only a few steps forward, she discovered that Ouyang Junyan had not followed.

The next second, she heard the dull sound of a fist striking flesh!

"I told you not to look at my wife!!" came Ouyang Junyan's furious roar, crazed with rage at the age of twenty-five...

The recording was forcibly halted.

Fang Zhiyin only felt that everything had become utterly unbelievable.

But the rich were always at one another's throats, fighting for power and profit, never likely to die out. Was such a family really suited to September?

It landed on him, but the shell-like barrier did not remain visible for long; after tracing out its own shape, it merged into the surrounding environment.

On the quiet night, the moon shone brilliantly, and Yang Menghuan's shadow as she rode her bicycle was clearly cast before the gate.

This was a shore-based air force base. Directly opposite stood two towering iron gates; beyond them lay a repair workshop. Though thick dust had already settled everywhere, the room was filled with machinery and carried a strong smell of oil. Lin Lingdong did not understand this part, and could only make a rough judgment.

Xu Hanyu had earned her position as chief secretary step by step. After so many years of accumulation in the company, if she could not even deal with an outsider dropped in from nowhere, then she would never have held that position securely.

In this life, Lin Lingdong's ambitions were enormous. He wanted to build a vast trade network; how could he manage without a port of his own?

But he had no mind to help anyone else keep watch over his wife, so he forwarded the garden surveillance feed to Qian Yang and let him look for himself.

For wholesale goods like these, they cost at most a dozen yuan in Guangdong. Once they had the merchandise in hand, they would at least double the price, which was no different from him raising the base price.

In the dream, Gu Ansheng poured out his true feelings, but Qiao Jinyue's figure had already vanished.

Wang Yan took out his phone and made a rough calculation. After subtracting the materials he had brought out, the approximate quantity sold, and the freebies used for promotions, that day's income came to about one thousand yuan. Today had only been a trial run, and he had not even brought much, yet the pure profit was already so substantial.

He had already experienced the tremendous damage brought by the illusion, damage that had struck at the very root of his being. If not for the protective treasure bestowed by the Flood Dragon King, he would likely have perished in that illusion.

"Your Uncle Fan Kun should know him, right? He is actually a discarded branch of the Fan family, a clan of artifact smiths," Mu Sen said indifferently.

"Your sweetheart is fine. A period of rest will be enough. What about you?" Su Qin asked.

"These are gold notes. You can redeem them for cash at the Bank of the Five Kingdoms," Wang Youqian said coldly.

"Why apologize? I told you, this was all your own choice," Fen Dai said calmly, still not looking at Liu Yun, her gaze remaining fixed on the beauty beyond the clouds.

He walked beneath that sect blooming with flowers of every color, and looked up at the three black characters. His blood surged with excitement, yet he always felt that something was missing.

Along the road, everyone looked at Mu Zifei with strange eyes. Of course they did; anyone who saw a blood-soaked freak standing on the main road would be afraid.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his thoughts, Chen Xu gave the blanket in his hands a hard shake, unfolding it completely before covering Zhao Jingwen with it.

In daily life, Lin Chang was a very calm man, or perhaps a very cold-blooded one; if something had nothing to do with him, he would simply leave it alone.

Qi Lin had incorporated the Twofold Seal into his training, making every strike of his staff both hard and supple, supple yet hard, strength and softness perfectly balanced, elegant beyond measure. Su Qin gave a sly smile, and a streak of sword light shot from the sword case behind him, descending toward Qi Lin.

Some of those Portuguese soldiers were blasted straight into the sky, some were blown to pieces, and some were hurled directly into the sea.