Chapter 31: You’re Not Asking to Borrow Money, Are You?

Fang Wenxuan examined carefully the date when Lou Zizi was sent abroad—it was seven years ago. Suddenly, a thought flashed through Fang Wenxuan’s mind: Su Qixing’s ex-girlfriend Luo Xi had died seven years ago as well. Was this just a coincidence? Luo Xi was Su Qixing’s ex-girlfriend, and Lou Zizi was a close friend of Su Qixing’s—did she know Luo Xi? What exactly was the extent of Su Qixing and Lou Zizi’s relationship? Since they were good friends, Lou Yu should know Su Qixing, so why did he deny it? What was his true purpose? Staring at the computer screen, Fang Wenxuan fell deep into thought.

“Hey, what are you thinking about? You’re so absorbed, I’ve called you several times and you didn’t hear me.” Lin Hui walked over to Fang Wenxuan, waving his hand in front of him.

Feng Hua was already anxious, and after hearing the imperial physician’s words, he paced up and down the jade steps repeatedly. The muffled cries of pain from within the hall only made his heart ache all the more.

Naturally, the guards at Prince Ding’s residence did not stop her. Instead, they greeted her with cheerful smiles and led her inside, only mentioning that His Majesty was at the residence and that she would be taken to see Lord Dou first.

Gu Yiming gathered the scattered firewood and tossed his torch onto the pile; flames shot up instantly.

When I returned to the bar, I found that man still there. He hadn’t known I was the manager earlier, which was why he’d been waiting for me all this time.

In the end, my father was still quite pragmatic. He hoped to ease relations with Ye Fei. Over the past two days, he’d been making indirect inquiries about Ye Fei. Clearly, what happened last time had left a profound impression on him.

Finally, Li Feng couldn’t set his mind at ease. He tightened his grip on her arm, guiding her closer to him. Youmeng stopped at his side, panting softly.

After another two or three days, I ran into Beauty Ji by the pond. Upon seeing me, she approached and greeted me, bowing politely.

As for what Lu Tingchen had promised me—that he would let me meet my mother and father—he had kept his word.

He thought that being drawn to Chen Sijin from the very first glance was not merely a matter of love at first sight. There must have been something, some unseen force, guiding them to each other.

The Zhao family could not deal with matters openly, but losing Zhao Congye was like losing an arm; their strength was gravely diminished. At the same time, Qi Qingjue managed to stem the spread of rumors.

“Then let’s go take a look! Hopefully, we’ll find a suitable weapon. I wonder if it’s possible to have one custom-made,” Xiang Yu said.

After the meal was prepared, the family ate quietly together. Without the children around, the atmosphere was indeed rather subdued.

Sensing the hostility emanating from Chu Tianjiao, Lu Mingfei was somewhat puzzled. Although his raw strength might not surpass Chu Tianjiao’s, he wasn’t afraid of a real fight. The art of Daoist magic was ever-changing; if it were just about brute force, what use would there be for Daoist skills? He might as well have taken up weightlifting instead.

Arriving at one of the angels’ palaces, the conversation inside let Zhao Qu know he wasn’t too late.

As for Li Li, her clothes were covered with bits of burnt paper, the scent of incense swirling around her. The paper fragments smoldered away, leaving no trace behind.

Without Xiaoming, real estate matters did become rather tricky. Should I reach out, or would it be better to remain silent?

His gaze was more resolute than ever before. Even though the person before him was invincible, even though this was a battle with no clear end in sight.

“How laughable that we were just saying our lord was too merciful, without realizing how strict he is with us,” Guo Jia said with a self-deprecating smile.

After leaving the room, Lu Mingfei and Zhang Lingfeng both found themselves on the hillside where they usually trained. Although they’d come ostensibly to drink, neither of them truly felt like it, so they only sipped symbolically.

At this moment, a man dressed in black, his hair matching his attire, leaned lazily against the car. His eyes were lowered, and his features, though exquisitely handsome, gave no sense of comfort or pleasure.

“Fu Yun’an, what is the meaning of this? What right do you have to drag me back here?” the boy called Fu Huai’an shouted angrily. If someone hadn’t been holding back one of his arms, he would have rushed at his brother to fight him.