Chapter 58: The Arm!

Shao Yu had just stood up, intending to lock the office door from the inside.

He had barely reached the door when it was suddenly flung open, striking him with great force! The heavy iron door slammed him to the ground, pinning him mercilessly beneath its weight.

In that instant, a blood-curdling scream tore from his throat:

“Aaaahhhh!”

Chen Fan was full of...

“Sigh!” At this point, Master Shen let out a long sigh, knowing full well that his descendant, Shen Zhengxiong, was all but certainly dead in vain.

Yet, the heartbeat and breathing sounded perfectly normal—no irregularities, no trace of angina or coronary disease.

“All disciples, listen to my command—kill these two intruders who have dared trespass into the Venomous Monastery!” After subduing Mao Bing, Xu Lu shouted, and together with Mao Bing and a crowd of disciples armed with weapons, charged forward.

A thriving shop could support three generations; compared to buying a home, investing in commercial property not only brought steady appreciation, it also offered considerable rental income. Most importantly, shops did not depreciate in value, making their investment potential even greater. Naturally, Chen Qiaoshan did not intend to let this opportunity slip by.

The spirit, as Phil had said, remained silent after the mountain spirit fished the iron ship from the lava lake, as if it had completely forgotten the entire affair.

Wang Lie thrust out his palm. Instantly, the palace was bathed in golden light as a surge of immense energy swept toward the four Blood-Tempered War Soldiers.

The old man at the tavern took a jar of wine from behind him, poured a bowl for Wang Jing, and placed it before her with a smile. He appeared to be around sixty or seventy, with white hair and a youthful face, exuding an air of immortality.

Qin Jingyuan had none of that imposing aura that compelled instant awe or submission, but the innate nobility and dignity he possessed could not be concealed.

Connecting the dots with the rescue of the hostages, they finally realized who was behind the operation. Some at last understood why the mastermind was willing to spend so much to have them kidnap employees of the Zhang Group.

For Zhao Yan, crossing swords with these elders was, in truth, an opportunity for self-improvement.

Marshal Lianshan even took a turn as a guest lecturer for a while, though he did not speak on navigation or combat—he didn’t quite measure up before seasoned veterans in those fields. But when it came to firearms, the future of the navy, military geography, or amphibious operations—those he could certainly address!

Sister Yuan entered the Forest Retreat, already in a foul mood at the novel furnishings. Now, scolded by her two companions, her face flushed a deep red. But with no one to back her up—and after what had happened at Jingshixuan last time—she had learned her lesson and, clutching her handkerchief, held her tongue rather than retort.

Ximen Liang ordered all the larger cannons to be mounted. “Boom! Boom!” Several shells were fired, sending great columns of water surging into the sea.

He Sanlang gripped the reins, braced both hands on the horse’s back, and with a powerful leap, stood atop the mount—now scarcely two meters from Chu Lian.

So, at the nurse’s instruction, Mr. Jiang helped restrain Jiaying’s head, while Tian Tian held down her hands.

Shi Quan dared not let his thoughts wander further. But then he reasoned—since the Soul-Nourishing Flower had not immediately devoured him and Ziyun, perhaps it had not yet turned on Li Xiaoshang and Qingyue either.

In the days that followed, the Old Master’s mood was a storm of anxiety, his mind churning over countermeasures for a possible rebellion. The more he pondered, the darker his mood became. In the end, carried away by his own imaginings, he became utterly convinced that the Zhang-Cai faction was indeed plotting treason.

He thought this might be the end, that after surviving countless calamities only to end up swallowed by the foul and ghastly belly of a crocodile, he would have the dubious distinction of a crocodile-skin coffin, rare in all the world.

Led by Ismar and ten guides, we followed in five jeeps, heading toward the mysterious Tutankhamun Pyramid.

It must be said, Li Xiehua’s words struck a nerve, landing precisely where Vice Principal Zhang was most susceptible.