Volume One, Chapter 49: Furious Rage

At noon, Wen Yang returned to the Jinlan Residence and climbed upstairs. Wen Jiu had already enrolled in a nearby public school a few days ago, and today was Friday.

Downstairs, the housekeeper was tending to the flowers in the garden.

Still in daylight, she turned the living room lights to their brightest and then played something on the LCD television.

She sat back on the sofa and sent a message to Wen Zhe.

The Jinlan Residence was very close to Yunxuan Design.

“Brother Tian, are you intending to…” Lin Xinyue looked at Ling Tian’s sudden surge of energy, blinking as a sly smile appeared on her face, her understanding dawning instantly.

Even the sect leader’s all-out strike, wielding the treasured Mountain-Quelling Artifact, failed to shake the external condensed dharma body of Chen Jin.

“My brothers! If I, Zhang Liao, do not return to avenge you, then what use is my life!” They say heroes do not shed tears, but heroes are flesh and blood too. Witnessing these scenes, how could Zhang Liao remain unmoved?

“Not at all, Mr. Butler, you flatter me. I merely won by a trick; it has nothing to do with gambling skills,” Ye Xiu said with a smile.

At this moment, the Primordial Corpse Kun transformed into the Dark Kun, emitting a tremendous panting sound. The terrifying aspect was that his breath shook the very souls of those present, causing many weaker spectators to turn pale and tremble uncontrollably.

For the border villagers, these ethnic minorities were like demons; no one dared venture into their lands. Even if there were a chance to send Dian Wei to secretly rescue Cao Cao, the unfamiliar terrain of the grasslands meant it would be a futile trip.

Even Ling Tian showed a hint of surprise—he had not expected that upon reaching the Saint King realm, the Taiji Diagram would be wielded with such ease and mastery.

Two vehicles were in pursuit; now only one remained. Just as Jun carefully took aim to fire again, two figures appeared silently on a distant rooftop, watching the chase below unfold.

Cao Cao had originally thought it would take half a year for his army to take shape, but judging by the current state, success was now within reach.

Next was the "Male Idol" group, which held a clear advantage and was the focus of the judges’ attention. Of the last fifty contestants, half advanced to the next round.

Previously, three lucky children were lively enough; now, with the addition of a devoted father who never once raised a finger against his child, never quarreled or scolded—why would anyone need to scold such a clever and adorable child? No matter what was done, it was never excessive. No matter how the father acted, it always seemed reasonable.

“Uh…” Liu Qian helplessly rubbed his nose, feeling rather apologetic about her aesthetic views.

Earlier, the danger had been even greater—they three were injured by poisonous gas and transformed into human sticks by the stout man with "Mist Hair and Water Maidens." That experience was truly unbearable for ordinary people.

His voice carried boundless melancholy. Even though Mo Tiange did not fully grasp the meaning behind the words, he could sense the desolation in the tone.

“I’m not blaming you,” Gong Yuanhe sighed, pulling her into his embrace and gently stroking her back. “Hmm, it’s my fault. Why didn’t I come to pick you up? You can take it out on me, okay?” He coaxed her, taking her hand to let her hit him. Ming Fei clenched her fists tightly, refusing to comply, tears streaming down her face.

Gong Zhongsu had complete confidence in him, believing he had handled the matter properly and that he truly understood. Thus, two days before the tomb relocation, they spread the news that Mistress Zhu had died of illness, turning the tomb-moving into a funeral and covering up the truth.

“Zhang Tianshun, the esteemed son-in-law, here is your crystal card. Please keep it safe,” Qin Shang, the imperial protocol chief, had been waiting early by the entrance of the Empire Restaurant in Xianyang City. Upon seeing Zhang Tianshun, he bowed respectfully like a grandfather greeting his grandson and handed over twenty crystal cards, each valued at five million, to Zhang Tianshun.