Granny Liu Enjoys the Gossip
After a brief moment of contemplation, Liu Yi finally lifted her gaze to him.
“There’s no need to take it to heart. They have always been in the wrong, and justice in this world is not determined by those who shout the loudest, nor are they its standard.”
Liang Zuan murmured in agreement, a look of joy and reassurance lighting his eyes.
Ever since the true and false heirs had returned to their rightful places, his biological parents resented him, his adoptive parents harbored hatred for him, Di Hui turned on him with humiliation, and countless netizens hurled insults at him.
Yet their meat was truly nothing special—just basic rinsing, grilling, or boiling. Such fare was hardly appetizing; how could they even bring themselves to eat it?
While Zhang Guo’an nodded repeatedly at what he heard, in truth, he paid no mind to Li Xin. In his view, the one with the largest army was always the most powerful, and Li Xin’s paltry few thousand soldiers posed no real threat.
“What should we do?” Chen Guangfu was at a loss, panic etched across his face. If those before him were pirates, perhaps he might survive, but facing the imperial army this time, he doubted even his own chances for survival.
At that moment, her husband Mel Gibson had already entered the manor’s grand hall to meet with the Halliwell family, leaving her alone with only the black bodyguard behind her.
With three of its kings defeated in succession by Zhan Liuyun, the entire Crimson Hall was gripped by fear and fury. Some hot-tempered members even wanted to challenge Zhan Liuyun, to show him that the Crimson Hall was not to be trifled with, but Liu Xiangdong quashed their agitation.
The Tower of Gods and Demons had laid their plans with great ambition, but their greatest miscalculation was underestimating the influence of Ling Xiao.
Watching the two Divine Marshals, battered but brimming with excitement, depart with their five adversaries, Ye Qianfeng felt a twinge of frustration. Yet what could he do? He could hardly challenge the Divine Marshals himself.
Wei Dong was nothing if not fierce—he simply picked himself up from the ground and charged at Zhan Liuyun once more.
Of course, when the Southern Sea forces attacked, the Ice Spring Sect was not without its own losses. In the end, the dozen or so Moon Elders, nearly a hundred Star Captains, and a vast number of menial disciples, low-ranking martial artists, and many Daoist apprentices who remained behind, all perished at Ice Spring Sect.
The prolonged delay in leaving Qingzhou naturally had its reasons. First, Ren Daoyuan had just taken four new brides and needed to comfort them. Second, he was waiting for Li Maojiang and his party to arrive.
A powerful surge of human presence rose from the city, enveloping Ren Yuan like a colossal beast seizing upon a rare and succulent prize.
Observing the awe and respectful contemplation on everyone’s faces, Matthew smiled faintly, gesturing for them to follow, saying nothing more.
Helping the elderly matron down from the carriage, Zhen Shiniang was already waiting by the side. “Mother, General…” She bowed in greeting, then reached out to assist the old lady.
Upon hearing this, Shen Miaoge looked at Hongxiu and smiled gently. “I’ll leave it to your judgment.” Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her head to sip her tea.
Adela affectionately linked arms with Baileel, and Melanie immediately sensed a warmth—her skin was just slightly hotter than hers, but at precisely the right degree, making the touch very comfortable.
Seeing the situation, Zuo Jiang quickly said to the waiter, “You do it. Open the bottle—can’t we just take it?” The waiter snorted and left the room.
But Matthew seemed not to notice and continued to lead her toward the foot of the wall. Though Melanie had her doubts, she reasoned that in an academy with six thousand years of history, there must be mechanisms that ordinary people could not perceive, so she followed with composure.
She had stumbled into another world in a drunken accident, only to discover she had become a bargain version of herself: her height was reduced to 80%, her weight to 70%, her age to 60%, and her private fortune was a pitiful 10%—enough to make her faint.