Chapter 105: It's Been a Long Time Since I've Seen You Bare

The man immediately recognized Shang Linjun and half-bowed, his voice trembling with a hint of fear as he stammered, “I’m sorry, it’s my fault—I was driving carelessly and didn’t look ahead, so... so...”
“It’s not his fault; it’s ours,” Mo Qinghan said in a low voice, glancing at Yan Jinxi. Standing opposite Mo Qinghan, Yan Jinxi quickly echoed, “Brother, it’s not his fault, it’s my own problem.”
Shang Linjun gazed at the man before him, sweat breaking out on the man’s brow from fright, and spoke coldly, “Why are you still here? Do you want me to treat you to lunch?”
The man stood stunned for a few seconds, mumbled his thanks, and hurriedly left the place that had nearly stopped his heart.
Shang Linjun withdrew.
Zhang Tie’s 54 pistol still had five bullets left. With only these bullets, breaking through the defenses at the foot of the mountain was no longer a question of possibility—it was utterly hopeless.
Yang Xiaotian spoke with calm dignity, offering no explanations, simply making it clear his actions weren’t intentional, leaving the other man with no grounds for complaint.
Huoyun, wielding a long spear, charged fiercely. As she neared Hua Qing and Shen Jun, she split into two. Hua Qing and Shen Jun sidestepped; Hua Qing’s Flowing Blossom Palm was soft as water yet strong as a mountain, immobilizing the spear before splitting it in two.
Time dragged on. Ye Shaoxuan had lost count of how many times he had swung the Imperial Severance Sword, one apparition after another vanishing before his eyes.
After another thirty minutes, a BMW X5 pulled up in front of the dealership. Sure enough, the third brother had returned, followed by the attendant, whose clothes were somewhat disheveled.
“You’d better apologize to Yue’er,” Liang Liang said coolly, and Qian Qiyao strode out in grand fashion, leaving behind an air of nonchalance tinged with guilt.
After anxiously waiting in the “cave” mansion for several days, her unease grew. She thought it over, then left the mansion to search for him.
The beastmen were gone, leaving the stone house vast, empty, and eerily silent, like a land of death. The stones in the pot stirred; a red hand emerged, followed by red hair, a red face, red clothes—red everything. He jumped out; had anyone seen him at that moment, they would have been scared out of their wits.
It’s said the barracks are made of iron, but the soldiers flow like water, and it’s true. The squad leader, usually so unruly, was unusually sentimental that day.
Out of the shadows stepped a middle-aged man, but something was odd about him: one of his eyes was ashen gray, and though his face looked no older than forty, his hair was already gray-white.
Qin Chen was hailed as an honored guest by the Pan family. Many powers in Jinling caught wind of the news, but no one truly knew what kind of being the Pan family had welcomed from Jinling Airport.
Although Junxiong Uehara was reluctant to be fleeced, having reached this point, he had no choice but to spend his money wisely. He pointed toward the second floor.
The secret voice-transmission was inaudible, but lips still moved, and Zhao Zangfeng was no fool.
At a loss for words, Big Bull could only point at the fish in the pot; its aroma was so tempting that, after half a day’s hunting, his stomach growled and his mouth watered.
Hundred Flowers Valley was actually developed by a martial arts family. After centuries of accumulation and generations of effort, it had reached its present scale and influence.
Liu Dan opened his eyes groggily, and pain surged over him like a tide. Darkness threatened to claim him again as he nearly fainted.
At this moment, under the big willow in the Chen family village, many villagers had gathered, their faces alight with cheerful smiles.
Seeing Demon Hand busy once more, Yang Ying found a spot to sit, intending to recover the strength spent fighting the swift raptor and horned dinosaur, preparing for the next battle.
They traveled by day and rested by night; after only two days, the group returned to the capital. As the winter month approached, Li Weijian pondered: he needed to stay in the capital to oversee the steelwork, and with the Ningguo Mansion’s summons imminent, his familial ties with the Jia family meant he couldn’t simply ignore it.
Now, trying to speak was impossible—no sound came out. His face was completely corroded, leaving only stark white bones, and he could only utter a hoarse, rasping sound.