(94) Hibernation

The night was as gentle as water, with the glow of lanterns dispelling the darkness.

Liang Zuai shed his serpent skin, donned a white shirt and black trousers, tied an apron around his waist, and diligently began grinding tofu. The millstone before him was filled with yellow soybeans; at its center was a hole through which the stone ground the beans to a fine consistency. His movements were skilled and swift, and as he ground, he used a wooden stick to stir the soybeans within the mill, ensuring the resulting tofu would be smooth and delicate.

As the millstone turned, the crushed soybeans fell through the center.

Zhang Qian did not intervene, but ambled over to the white fox and chuckled slyly, "You two can fight all you want. By the time you're done, this fox will have become my energy point."

Ella said nothing more, but her face was already glowing with a sweet smile. As she drove, her mind began to conjure images of romance and passion that would unfold once the two of them arrived at the hotel room.

He placed the water on the table, then began distributing cleaning cloths—first handing one to Principal Wu, then stuffing another into the hands of the stunned Mai Dongsheng. Just as he was about to give the last cloth to Su Zhiai, he was blocked by Mu Chendong.

It was obvious what the price would be; he'd surely have to help her deal with that pile of task lists.

Lin Xiaolei’s eyes shimmered with tears. If she hadn’t been desperately controlling her emotions, she might have been moved to cry.

Having fought to such a degree, none dared to be careless any longer. Otherwise, the fate of the companions killed by Ye Qiu would soon become their own.

Her gentle, tranquil beauty and approachable demeanor made one instinctively want to converse with her a while longer. Her makeup was naturally elegant, and her brows arched in a subtle, natural curve, accentuating her dignified and gracious appearance.

Yet, among all the reasons previously explained to Ye Qing, this one had never been mentioned.

At this moment, the look in Wulong’s eyes was one of unwillingness, yet as his gaze shifted, he looked at Mingyang and the trio who had arrived with him, revealing a hint of apprehension. But when his eyes fell downward upon Zihan’s figure, they grew heavy with contemplation.

As Zihan’s silhouette vanished, everyone’s eyes were filled with astonishment, staring in disbelief at what had transpired. Their hearts trembled uncontrollably—what unfolded before them was surreal, like a dream. They finally understood why Zihan was so confident; no one could detain him.

Song Ruyu grinned, “I do recognize some rare medicinal herbs.” Ginseng, lingzhi, fo-ti, and those her mother used in soups—gastrodia, angelica, rehmannia, codonopsis, goji berries, and more—she had consumed plenty, so not knowing them would be inexcusable.

Guangcheng’s gaze was unsettled as he stared fiercely at Chiba, suddenly struggling to stretch out a finger and point to his own chest. It was lamentable that Chiba, though suffused with profound spiritual energy, was powerless at this moment. Noticing Guangcheng’s gesture, his heart stirred; he reached for his chest and felt that his ribs were already fractured.

In those days, the ancestral hall was held in the highest esteem. To have one's achievements recorded in the family genealogy was the greatest honor. Chao Zhong believed that as long as he followed Zhang Tianyi, even if he died, his death would be glorious, and his descendants would surely remember Chao Zhong.

Yet, with things having developed as they had, aside from those loose cultivators who were already entertaining thoughts of defecting to the Heavenly Court, who could still focus on food and drink?

Song Ruyu paused and looked back. Sure enough, no students were crossing the bridge; instead, they were running toward the side corridors. It seemed the road ahead was blocked or someone was preventing passage, so they doubled back, leaned anxiously on the railing, peering below and whispering urgently among themselves.

Though they had reached the final step, after Li Han confirmed what Lu Ren had said, a few, still plagued by fear, chose to give up.

“Are you hoping that I, as your sect master, will throw you and him into the Pit of Ten Thousand Serpents right this moment?!” Lan Mufeng suddenly stood and seized Murong Qingwan’s throat in a powerful grip.