Chapter 63: Lü Huiqing

Lü Huiqing was an opportunist, and one of the most successful ones at that.

Now, Li Chang'an was going to use a more enticing carrot to trick this clever donkey into submission.

"Brother Jifu, what is your opinion of Wang Anshi?"

The question was remarkably unceremonious. Wang Anshi could be considered Lü Huiqing's secondary boss, after all; he was the one who had promoted and recommended Lü, lifting him to the position of the Director of the Finance Planning Commission.

According to the code of conduct for a gentleman, a recipient of such grace had no standing to judge—

Immersed in his own world, Wu Yong failed to notice the bizarre looks the Allied Shinobi forces were casting his way.

However, this long and dark night was far from over. Hugo was woken up by Blue Eyes three times in succession, while the miraculous seed would only eat a tiny bit each time and then refuse any more. This left Hugo suffering through sheer torment, his entire night ruined by this miraculous ancestor.

In truth, they also knew that their own clansmen were inside the cargo bed, but they had given chase not to monitor Feng Jun, but out of sheer curiosity as to what on earth the divine doctor intended to achieve by pulling off such a stunt and creating a self-propelled carriage.

"Get nothing? Hmph, our southwestern Xia family boasts centuries of heritage. Do you think we are some soft persimmon to be kneaded at will?" Old Master Xia said angrily.

"Very well." After some thought, Xikong agreed to his younger brother's decision. After all, his brother was the chief administrator of Taiwan, and moreover, he understood things much better than he did. Since his brother had considered all the angles and still made such a choice, it must be for a good reason.

The two looked at each other, unable to suppress a creeping sense of horror. Such supernatural events were already a severe test of one's nerve, let alone the fact that this place was none other than a Daoist immortal grotto-heaven.

Later on, as Gazi grew taller, unexpectedly, during his third year of high school, he contracted epidemic cerebrospinal meningitis. After recovering, he was left with a chronic case of epilepsy, and consequently, he dropped out of school.

I used to want to figure all these things out, but now I understand. Everything was being manipulated behind the scenes by Tang Chenghao, though his purpose in doing so was perhaps for some grand plan of his own.

I pinned her hands down, but she still showed no signs of waking up, which filled me with a sense of dread. I truly worried that Lü Mengmeng might sink into this dream forever, never to wake again.

Most impressive of all were the massive wings it spread when hovering, with a wingspan that must have been over ten meters wide! One could only imagine to what extent its pectoral muscles and forelimbs had developed to power such a pair of colossal wings; a single sweep of those forelimbs could easily tear an adult human to pieces.

The figure was seen deploying a powerful spiritual energy defensive array alongside a double-layered protection of Profound Saint profound breath energy, striving to withstand that terrifying lightning energy.

Unable to defy the heavenly laws of the mortal world that spanned a hundred years, Emperor Zhao ordered the entire cultivation world to use a special technique to parasitize divine souls onto puppets as burial sacrifices. Following that, the divine souls of mortal beings, much like cultivators, followed Emperor Zhao into the ghostly realm of Yama, living to fight for him and continuing to follow him even in death.

Seeing that she wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, I contemplated finding an excuse to interrupt her, but unexpectedly, the head steward at the front gate arrived a step ahead.

At that time, the students in the school stirred up a commotion, urging Zhang Ming, the student union president of Class Three, to issue a challenge, promising that upon his success, they would support him in retaining his presidency.

For the three of them to secure first place in the Martial Marquis Tournament was indeed nothing more than wishful thinking.

His gaze drifted downward, and before he knew it, that ivory-white folding fan was already resting against his chin, merely half an inch away.

The emperor who had vowed to sweep away all injustice in the world was gone, replaced by a ruthless tiger and wolf willing to stop at nothing to achieve his own grand hegemony. The monarch who once consulted him on every single matter had transformed into an autocratic tyrant.

Forget whatever vendetta of a murdered father there was, forget whatever grievances and hatreds existed; if they could not share the same bed in life, perhaps being able to share the same grave in death would not be a wasted life.