Chapter 122: What Would You Do

She wanted to remind Yuan Ruoxia to warn Zhou Ruikang, but then she thought, without any evidence, he wouldn’t believe her anyway. Besides, what did it have to do with her? Forget it. Wasn’t it better to just enjoy her hotpot?

After the meal, Lin Lu took out the gifts she had brought for Yuan Ruoxia and Zhao Yu, handing them over to each in turn. Then Yuan Ruoxia drove her back to Shallow Water Bay. It was Lin Lu’s first day back in the country, after all, and she didn’t dare to take up too much of her time.

...

Once she left the Hongwang Mansion’s grounds, she bought some sesame flatbread from a street vendor, eating as she slowly made her way toward the Elegant Chrysanthemum Inn.

“Jiying has always known how to weigh the important and the trivial. Father is only thinking of Yuan’er’s safety.” Chu Jinhe nodded hurriedly.

Shangguan Wan gazed out the window, feeling increasingly uneasy. Traveling in this weather was just asking for trouble. After all, they were in a horse-drawn carriage, not a car. And even traveling by car could be dangerous on the roads in conditions like this.

Nearby, in a Taoist temple, Princess Nongyue was dressed in a Daoist robe and wore a mask, leading a few nuns as they cleaned the temple.

In the other person’s eyes, she seemed to see something familiar, but also something more—an inexplicable profundity, like a chasm splitting open at her feet, leaving her no time to react before she plummeted, her heart lurching with sudden weightlessness.

Yajun and the others waited in the ruined temple for about an hour before the rain finally stopped. After taking care of the fire, they prepared to leave.

What kind of servant, pledged as compensation for a debt, could sleep until they woke naturally, and upon waking have maids waiting on them?

The art of observing the heavens was already mysterious and profound, and those who could master it were one in a million. Manuals on the subject were exceedingly rare; unaffiliated cultivators like them had no chance of ever coming into contact with such secrets.

“Can’t your son do anything to ease Father’s worries?” Chu Jinhe asked sadly. In his father's eyes, he was always the weakling tormented by love, wasn’t he? His father was old and frail, yet still refused to entrust him with the affairs of state.

Murong Xiao looked again toward Nangong Yuncheng. “As for why Jun Moyue and Jun Moyu remained by my side, I’m sure the Prince of Chu knows very well.” The fact that he was able to seek her out the very day Zhao Yin left showed that he, too, had a grasp on Zhao Yin’s movements and affairs.

Sure enough, after calling out that one time, Yu’er’s eyes went blank and she fell into a stupor, her breathing growing rapid once again.

What was the story behind all this? It seemed that when I go home for winter break, I should seek out the elders and ask them about it.

If someone were to look down at the sphere from space, they would see a marvelous sight. Countless massive rockets soaring skyward, their blazing trails carving paths across the heavens, launched toward every corner of the globe. Europe, America, Russia, and even Asia—all had innumerable rockets lifting off, blossoming everywhere like flowers as they shot toward their destinations.

Ignoring Sun Ruodan’s refusal, Yue clung to his arm, shaking it as she pleaded with him to let her use the thought-wave ability she found so impressive.

Back when Chu Yunxi and Lu Mingxuan passed through this island, many of the fox beasts took part in attacking them and recognized Chu Yunxi. Seeing her act like this now, they were utterly stunned.

My third aunt and cousin greeted me briefly when they saw me at Yuling Daoist’s home, but didn’t linger, heading straight back. Last time, when my third uncle was kidnapped, they had also met Daoist Yuling. Perhaps my uncle had said something to them, for my aunt and cousin Zhang Yan acted as though they hadn’t even noticed the Daoist’s presence.

“My lord, it’s hot!” Salt Ding, the fool, cried out in alarm, but it was too late. He watched as his master spat out the water with a splutter, looking rather awkward.

Appointments were being made—Wu Daozi’s reputation was on the rise. Chen Wanrong was reassured and said with a smile, “If you sincerely want a painting, you can leave your address, and Mr. Wu will see about it when he has time.” Now was the time to build fame, not to make money. With fame comes fortune, after all.