Chapter 50: Fang Jiahe’s Schemes

Zhou Chuangen organized everyone overnight to repair the house at the educated youths’ compound. Fang Jiahe, the educated-youth team leader, had been complaining that the brigade captain was mistreating them over the housing issue and insisted on reporting the matter to the commune. The brigade captain was so furious that he could not rise from his heated brick bed for several days.

Because of this, everyone at the educated youths’ compound was subjected to the villagers’ disdain. Yet Fang Jiahe turned around and began courting Zhou Cuicui, the brigade captain’s daughter. This provoked the brigade captain into beating Cuicui, but even that failed to separate the two.

Zhou Cuicui’s meeting with Fang Jiahe had been entirely accidental.

The wind stirred and the leaves fell. Then a breeze slipped quietly through the window, carrying a trace of coolness. A fine, endless rain drifted down, scattering damp droplets along the windowsill.

This maneuver fell into Wu Tianlin’s eyes, and the corners of his eyes immediately twitched twice of their own accord.

At the sound of that tone, Kirihara’s mouth twitched at once. Looking up, he saw Atobe gently stroking the beauty mark at the corner of his eye with one hand while gripping the cliff face tightly with the other. His expression was dark, and his sharp eyes were lowered as he gazed at him.

If the dozens of forces present joined together, how could the Great Demon King possibly withstand them?

The Clan Chief of the Wilderness stood there with a faint smile, his right hand behind his back and his left held before him. Looking utterly calm and unruffled, he blocked every one of Tang Yi’s attacks.

“Meier, I was clearly trying to think of a way to deal with this, and then you came bouncing in with a bang and ruined everything. How am I supposed to praise you?” After saying this, he did not forget to rap her twice on the head, making her wince and tremble with pain.

In the hearts of many, he had long since become a hero. Yet in the hearts of just as many others, he had fallen from hero to laughingstock. His strength alone, however, ensured that no one dared mention his name again.

But this time, when Wei Jie looked at the Demon Mask, he felt something he could not put into words. Its sheen was no longer as bright and lustrous as before. It seemed that the mask had lost a little of its spirit—or perhaps something else.

“Let me see, let me see.” Xiangzi held one hand flat against his forehead, leaned forward, and furtively peered outside.

One bowl after another. In the blink of an eye, Tian Mo realized that he had already eaten at least ten or twenty bowls.

To be bound for five years for nothing, permitted to work only for the Duke of Wei’s household during that time—was it really worth it?

He kept glancing at his phone and staring at the door. Gradually, he could no longer sit still, and anger began to rise in his heart. At this hour, even if Zheng Chenheng was coming home late—or not coming home at all—shouldn’t he at least call to explain? Muttering his deep dissatisfaction, he unexpectedly received a call from Zheng Chenheng.

Linghu Changqing changed his clothes, then sat beside the table before a bronze mirror and began carefully and painstakingly applying his makeup.

One of the fierce ghosts, seeing that begging for mercy had failed, knew that everything would be decided by this final attempt. It would be captured sooner or later; there was no difference between being taken now and being taken afterward. It might as well risk everything—perhaps there would still be a chance to escape. Thus, it led the charge in a swift attack on Wangcai.

The form of address “Dad” was not often used, but there was one figure whom no one could afford to overlook. For a long time, people had taken him for a legend, or merely a subject of amusement discussed over tea.

When he opened the door, he still hesitated for a moment. But then he thought that the man must have gone to the office, and he walked out with relief. After closing the door, he took out his phone and called Linyuan. He needed to know whether Linyuan had arrived home safely and where he was now.

At that moment, in the adjoining room, Yuqiao was leaning against the headboard of the bed, unclothed. Her hands moved across her chest and another place on her body, while wisps of shadowy energy slowly seeped out from beneath her and gathered into a phantom image of herself.

He had already grown accustomed to sleeping on a wooden bed, so lying on the soft sofa left him—Fat Sheep—rather unaccustomed to it. His lower back ached, and his whole body felt sore. Rubbing his neck with one hand, he spoke lazily.

There was a heavy weight at his waist, and something equally heavy rested around his neck. It was also covered in soft fur, bringing with it an itchy sensation.

Yang Qi knew he was not capable of doing that. Under such circumstances, he could not even make out Elder Chen’s figure clearly, much less launch a counterattack. He simply closed his eyes and compressed the elemental-force shield as much as possible, protecting his vital points.