Volume One, Chapter 80: Zhao Yuanshan Grows Anxious

“It’s not really a matter of offending anyone. It’s just that I’m currently in charge of developing the Huang family’s land under the Yun Group. Before the project can begin, we need construction and planning permits. Right now, Hu Jianye is holding things up and refusing to process them,” Chu Ming explained.

Upon hearing this, Lin Ba Hu immediately replied from the other end of the line, “Young Master, don’t worry. I’ll call that bastard Hu Jianye right now. I’ve got enough dirt on him—he wouldn’t dare refuse to sign.”

Once again, an imperial decree arrived. This time, a new eunuch had been sent to deliver it. The decree sternly reprimanded Jiang An Yi, stripped him of his noble title, and demoted his official rank from the lower third grade to the standard fourth grade. He was temporarily appointed as acting magistrate of Huazhou, pending further instructions from the court.

“There are simply too many to count. All of them are just as powerful as we are…” Xuan Yun said.

But just then—crack!—a tremendous boom resounded as a massive bolt of lightning tore across the distant sky. Far away, a great golden flash split the black clouds, flickering relentlessly.

The mirror displayed the image of the tree demon. It was lying motionless inside its coffin, as lifeless as a corpse; nothing else was visible.

His mother’s face turned livid with anger, but she couldn’t bear to stop him. Gu An walked out of the temple, only to find hundreds of guards floating among the mountains, blocking his path.

Cheng Xin knew they still had business to discuss. She had vaguely overheard Zhao Rui’s conversation with John, so she didn’t insist on Qin Ming accompanying her. Considerate as ever, she agreed to leave them be.

“That makes things easier,” Zett said, his wicked grin now etched into everyone’s memory, leaving them to wonder if he’d lost his mind.

On the surface, Cheng Xin appeared friendly as she chatted with Yu Meixi, but deep down she wished she could squeeze her flat and twist her into knots. Yu Meixi treated her guests the same way she treated Qin Ming’s younger brother, which made Cheng Xin want to complain out loud.

As Lin Feier thought of this, an involuntary, serene smile blossomed on her lips, like a snow lotus unfurling on the Tianshan Mountains. In that instant, her charm was laid bare, leaving everyone gazing at her in a daze.

The boss tossed his phone to Qin Ming, telling him to see for himself what had happened. Sure enough, as the boss had said, photos of Qin Ming hitting Yu Jintian were already going viral on Weibo. At this moment, Qin Ming couldn’t very well claim that Yu Jintian had started the fight.

“A windfall?” Li Guopu felt at a loss, unable to tell if this was fortune or disaster. He thought to himself, peace and safety would be blessing enough—who cares about wealth?

There were many wooden stakes above. These weren’t ordinary stakes; they brimmed with energy.

“You brought me here—what do you hope to change?” Fan Ying stepped back. Under Fan Zhou’s intense and fervent gaze, Luo Zhen asked calmly.

Isabelle nodded, then took out some food from the car—besides chocolate, she also had some jerky brought from the camp. In Chen Hu’s snakeskin bag, there were still fruit pies. At least they wouldn’t go hungry tonight.

Accompanied by crisp music, the heights varied, rising and falling—some soared dozens of meters high, others were barely over a meter. The tallest stood in the center of the lotus altar, like a pillar holding up the sky, thrusting straight into the clouds—a truly magnificent sight.

As Ye Yi spoke, waves of immense spiritual pressure gathered on her back and shoulders. She raised her head, face grave, and faced Ju Liuli, ready for battle.

Luckily, before Nobuyoshi Ohno could inquire, Jiro Fujiki continued, “During the Three Kingdoms era, Emperor Wu of Wei, Cao Cao, saw his sons Cao Pi and Cao Zhi vie for the position of heir. Now, looking at our own family’s situation, the similarity is striking.”

“My death is of no consequence—I only fear I am unworthy of Your Majesty’s grace.” Yuan Chonghuan felt a sudden chill in his heart, sensing the emperor’s gaze as sharp as a blade—far more than a mere prickling at his back. His entire body seemed to bristle with thorns; even his soul was pierced. He could sense the supreme majesty, an inexpressible terror, and dared not utter another word in protest.