073. A Candidate for Collaboration?

"..."

Lin Mi paused in surprise. The Gu family?

She didn't know much about them. Her only encounter was that brief meeting with Gu Chenze last time.

Though they had added each other as friends on "Melody," they never really chatted. Sometimes, when she posted a short video, he would give it a like.

Thinking back, during their meeting, he had asked her to read his fortune, but she got busy and completely forgot about it.

No—

"So they really did go to see Niu Youdao. It seems they're finally agreeing to his terms," Fu Jun remarked, shaking his head with a sigh.

Since it was an old debt, most officials felt it was not their responsibility, and their confidence was evident, sometimes even tinged with resentment.

The main reason she agreed to let them through was her hope for something better, not wishing to earn a curse in exchange for refusing guests.

Feng Rong said, "The harvest was quite bountiful." Champa rice might be unremarkable in the north, but in the south, especially near Yazhou, it flourished. Not only could they grow two crops a year—three were possible.

"You were chosen by me to be the Crown Prince and have rendered great service. What reward do you seek?" The emperor turned his gaze to Li Ang.

"See? Your unnie is just like your old master," Ryu Sishin whispered quietly to Zheng Xiujing.

The burly man exclaimed in astonishment, "Spatial magic? So you really are a high-level mage." It was well known that magicians were the most sought-after profession on the continent, especially those of advanced rank, who commanded much respect.

Forget it! For now, Xihaitang decided not to meet the disciples of the Celestial Jade Sect but turned to demand an explanation from the Heavenly Path Sect instead.

"I'm fine, but the child has lost a lot of blood, is badly hurt, and terribly frightened." Jiang Yushu held the child close with her left arm, overwhelmed and distraught.

In the end, Yin Feng decided not to hold back. He planned to resolve the fight quickly, not wanting to become further entangled, fearing that the commotion would attract even more terrifying creatures.

"It's my pleasure to serve you. What would you like to see?" Dr. Li smiled politely—after all, the Yin family was a shareholder in the hospital; how could he refuse?

Later, Xiao Fan would learn that the old man sweeping the floor late at night was none other than a legendary figure from one of the three great military branches—Thunderblade of the Thunder Corps.

Without the constraints of ritual, the atmosphere at the banquet was relaxed and lively, far more spirited than New Year's Eve. The sight of so many beaming faces made it easy to forget this was a palace steeped in strict taboos, and to feel instead as if it were an ordinary family's reunion dinner.

I stared in shock at Chunyu, who was chatting and laughing as if nothing happened. I never imagined she would choose to avoid things this way. I was both surprised and angry. Yet Chunyu ignored my gaze, maintaining her calm and collected demeanor.

Zhi Ze and I dared not make a sound and quietly stepped aside. "Father," Zhi Ze called softly.

"Have you still not finished the homework the teacher assigned?" I gestured toward Yuan Lin's back and asked Chunyu in a low voice.

He never expected that this Xiao Fan could, with just a few words, make everyone kneel.

"Yes, that's why I wanted to ask if you did it," the doctor asked, suspicion in his eyes.

Those black rocks—just bring back a few dozen tons and refine them, and you'd easily get several hundred pounds of high-purity Thundercloud Iron, more than enough to forge third- or fourth-grade Star God weapons.

"Very well," Zhi Ze said, stepping forward to turn and give instructions. "It's getting late, Lin, you should go home and rest." A nanny came at the call and carried Yuan Lin away.

A slit appeared in the curtain, and a fair, slender hand reached out, holding a white handkerchief.

When she finally pushed open the door to the man's bedchamber, she saw Mu Hongcang leaning weakly against the side of the bed, his face pale and a sheen of sweat on his forehead, breathing softly and labored.