Did Substitute No. 45 get to play today?

With a dull thud, the scream was abruptly silenced. The masked man landed a punch that crushed his opponent’s nose; after a brief, desperate flailing, the victim lay still. At that moment, his accomplice released Yang Tian, drew a cold, gleaming dagger from some hidden place, and stabbed blindly at the masked man’s back.

Li Yuanhao’s grip tightened as he remembered her return to the palace from Mount Wutai, recalling how helpless she must have felt then. His heart stirred as he gazed quietly at her sleeping face, a ripple passing through him.

Shen Mingxuan watched her, saying nothing, merely smiling. There was perhaps no one else so indifferent to her own appearance as Lin Chuxia.

So when Fan Yanyan vowed never to marry, promising to live or die alongside her, she grew anxious. She knew Fan Yanyan was not one to joke; if she didn’t correct his thinking soon, she truly feared he would follow her into death should she die.

Though the distance was considerable, Pei Yeling could still hear her. She was crying, occasionally lifting her hand to wipe away her tears.

The two knelt on the cold floor, speaking no unnecessary words. The moon, previously hidden among the clouds, revealed itself at last. Its pure light streamed into the room, as if bestowing its blessing upon the newlyweds.

Yet Ye Nanpei, already prepared, would never allow Pei Yeling to succeed. In a few swift moves, she subdued her completely.

As he spoke, Fanghua stared at him in astonishment, unable to believe what she was seeing, covering her lips in shock.

Because Long Haoran had truly plotted against the emperor, Long Jinyu had left the court with a dark expression, saying nothing. Helan Yao and Long Shaoyan had already offered generous terms to Long Jinyu’s grandfather, and since Long Jinyu had never aspired to the throne, his grandfather naturally supported Long Shaoyan.

She still wore just two thin garments; that tattered quilt was hardly fit for descending the mountain. Besides being her only possession, she valued her dignity—she didn’t want to be mistaken for a beggar, though her plight was scarcely better.

He drew close to Ji Fulei, bending down so he could kiss her crimson lips, his fingers tangled in her black, short hair, enjoying its softness.

It wasn’t Qijun Ye’s indifference that troubled her, but the fact he claimed he had no authority. According to Qi Yujin’s temperament, the more dangerous the situation, the more she would pursue it. If she told her the risk they faced, it would be impossible to drive her away.

“Perhaps it’s true,” Lu Anming said, though he didn’t tell Lu Anran that Qin Ze and Wu Lili were together because of her.

Lin Beiwei blinked her large eyes, finding Yi Yunsheng more pleasing than ever today. In Qingcheng, no wealthy men were as handsome as Yi Yunsheng, and no handsome men as wealthy—he was the epitome of wealth and charm.

Had Zhuge Liang not changed Liu Bei’s strategic thinking, Liu Bei would never have considered seizing Jingzhou and plotting for Bashu.

Having spent so many years in the entertainment industry, she had anticipated many possible scenarios, so she secretly bought herself an apartment. Its address was known to no one but herself—not even her manager, who was with her every day.

The train doors closed. Ding Xueke pressed her lips together, looked outside, and saw the adjacent train slowly moving backward. She knew the train was starting up.

Phoenix Inn was considered the premier inn in Night Sacred Capital; those who stayed there surely had extraordinary status.

Jing Yi feared he might not take her to the Washing Spirit Sea, so she kept a close eye on him, afraid he would abandon her here.

Jing Ye was suddenly struck by the Old Ancestor’s palm, his body quivering as the jade pendant at his neck blazed to life, white halos drifting around him.

“What should we do?” Bu Lingjue panicked, his hand already at his waist, ready to draw his weapon and go down fighting.

As Jing Ye spoke, he glanced at the old retainers of Jing Kingdom in the distance. Bai Zhantang and Zhuang Huanyu showed anxious expressions as well. This battle, though victorious, seemed only to deepen their disappointment. Reclaiming the eighty-one towns of the Nine Provinces was easy in name, but in practice, it was harder than climbing to the heavens.

A crowd of supreme elders accompanied Ye Chao. When Yang You appeared, they were so startled that they drew back a hundred thousand miles, as if Yang You were some terrifying beast.

“Dou Dou, can’t you stay still for a moment?” Dou Dou, suddenly empowered, was far too excited, zipping back and forth along the way until Mingxuan’s eyes were dazzled.

Recalling past hardships, Gu Qingyan—strong on the outside yet fragile within—could not hold back; tears streamed down her face, startling Lin Chen.

Facing a soaring column of yellow dragon water and monstrous waves, Qingyun advanced instead of retreating. Cradling her zither, she rose upward, then flung the zither spinning through the air. With a sharp tearing sound, a blood-red longsword was drawn from beneath the zither.

This was no ordinary demon beast; its body was covered not in feathers but in golden scales. Under the sun’s rays, it glittered so brilliantly that none dared look directly at it.

Could the rumors in the martial world be true? He wondered silently. His gaze swept over Feng Liandao, then returned to the cold, stern man.

Serving as a behind-the-scenes guest for the Deputy Minister of the Ancestral Temple was less illustrious than being a historian, but certainly better than selling fish. But this journey to Chang’an was fraught with familiar faces—everyone in Gao Jun’s household recognized him. He dared not travel with them.