Performer (11)

The middle-aged man slowly sat up from the ice coffin, examined his body, then burst into hearty laughter.

Henry took a careful look at Jie Xuanyao as he spoke. Observing Henry’s expression, Jie Xuanyao seemed to have guessed something.

Zi Xin heard Ni Lingge’s words. Although she was still somewhat unhappy, at least the grievance on her face had faded.

The person cutting in line was a second-year middle school boy, his head bare, smoking as he squeezed in wherever there was space.

As for the preserved fruit, Shen Wan didn’t have any ready at hand; she still needed to climb the mountain to pick wild fruit and prepare it herself.

Ma Sancai, indeed, hailed from the northwest part of Qiantang Town, from a place called Changqu, nestled beside the Grand Canal between Beijing and Hangzhou. It used to be a water town, rich and with a long history.

The fact that the Xiao family could remain established on this continent for so long meant that every patriarch was no fool. They would never do anything unprofitable.

His gaze darkened, and he rolled off Qingrong, lying beside her and, without thinking, let her rest her head on his arm.

As expected, just halfway to the hospital, Yun Xi received a call from Liang Xiuyin. The words were simple and cold.

Yun Xi shrugged, blinking innocently, as if she felt nothing amiss about the shot she just fired.

“I will certainly deliver your message!” Yang Yan replied solemnly. As he turned to leave, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, noticed only by the sharp-eyed Wei Yan, who said nothing more and waved him away.

Black Tiger tried to explain further, wanting to make Xu Yixuan sound more impressive so he wouldn’t seem so incompetent. But at that moment, the phone beeped with a busy tone—the other party had hung up.

“Leonhard, today—accompany me as I bury her.” He suddenly felt exhausted, but still had to lay his beloved wife to rest.

In the Grand Celestial Dynasty, Tian Yong walked slowly onto the Spirit Battle Platform. On the other side, Wu Yan, dressed in black, climbed onto the platform with a gloomy expression.

Back then, Lian Yushang was just a naive youth with ideals, painstakingly planning his vision.

Only then did he understand—knowing the Demon Organization had corrupted Miles, his anger blazed.

Luo Jiulang stood at the door, where the firelight could not reach. His face was in shadow—grim and cold.

“So, you must believe your boyfriend will definitely come!” Song Qing gave a confident smile.

Just as she was feeling smug, she caught sight of the lifelike butterfly and peony in Lu Yuan’s hands, and her eyes widened in amazement.

Besides, there was no need to ask about such matters. She had the authority of a housekeeper; must she consult others even to tear down a courtyard?

Xu Feng tasted the dish and nodded quietly to himself. The flavor was indeed remarkable. He had eaten Nine-Turn Sausage before, but never one so authentic as today.

After a while, the military medic Skarin uttered a timid guess.

Upon hearing Chen Yaxue had arrived, Xu Feng let out a cold laugh. He didn’t need to guess—her purpose in seeking him was obvious: to ask for forgiveness and rekindle their relationship.

The earlier double vortex magnetic storm was formidable, matching the Gamma Ray Burst of the Photon Machine Emperor.

When the phone rang, Zhou Zhenting finally released her, but his warning gaze was unmistakable.

Later, it was revealed that Chen Yaxue had filed for divorce because she had an affair with a wealthy heir during their marriage, with Zhou Chunhua as the matchmaker.

Li Mochou snorted coldly, swept her horsetail whisk, and after exchanging a dozen moves with Granny Sun, forced her to retreat.

Chu Lang, meanwhile, was grateful for recognizing Duan Mo’s identity at school and admitting his mistake, a decision that saved him from disaster.

With a thunderous roar that soared into the clouds, the Lingyun Sword shattered the Changqing Short Sword, then cleaved Changfeng in two, leaving not even a trace of lingering soul.

“Grandfather?” Chu Qin’s beautiful eyes widened upon hearing such respectful words from the elder.

Though Doctor Lu was only a late-stage Spiritual Practitioner, he carried an arrogant air, and even Hong Yun seemed to treat him with unusual respect.

Wang Di nodded, then turned to me. “Brother Joan, could you help us look for Tiantian as well?”

The old man shook his head, summoned a formation disk, circled it above the house, then flew towards the woods to continue searching for Linghu Yun.

Bai Tu watched Old Liu speak, and when he seemed to realize something was amiss, Bai Tu couldn’t help but laugh. Though everything hadn’t been fully considered yet, since preparations were almost complete, it would suffice.

According to the Prince of the Chu family, Duan Mo was someone even Old Master Chu had to treat with great respect.

Beside the stage, Xiong Wu, visibly excited, hurried to pick up the microphone and handed it to Du Shengping.

Looking ahead, there stood a mountain over five hundred feet tall, stretching gently to either side, its slopes impressive and covered in lush green forest.

These individuals had already made a name for themselves in Divine Wind City as Silver Moon Realm ninth-stage warriors. Their entry into the top ten caused little stir among the crowd.

Faced with the solemn kneeling salute, the Gu family parents felt awkward but had no choice but to accept it.

The alchemists assigned by the Nine Kingdoms Alchemist Association to oversee the exchange conference stepped forward, and a few leaders asked their questions respectfully.

Yi Ning wondered—since washing machines could be invented, why not a machine dedicated to cooking? Then everyone could focus on their own tasks and no longer worry about preparing meals.

He had already been silent for three quarters of an hour; Rong Heng stood nearby, watching the hourglass and counting the time for him, reminding him every quarter so he wouldn’t forget.