Chapter 44: The Family Compound

Qiong Island was garrisoned by an entire army, comprising four divisions and totaling more than sixty-three thousand men. The residential compound for families was vast as well. Gu Huaizheng chose the second independent courtyard in the easternmost row, third row, though it was not a multi-story building but a bungalow.

A whole row of courtyards, all built to the same specifications, with a smooth cement road leading from each courtyard gate straight to the main entrance. Each courtyard covered about a mu of land, with walls as tall as a person. Inside, a one-meter-wide cement path stretched to the eaves of the house, and the veranda was likewise a meter wide.

“Principal, what did you mean by saying you were careless?” The project manager who followed behind me vaguely heard my words. He pressed his palms together in a respectful gesture toward the house, then stepped inside and asked.

Just then, a tremendous sound erupted, and two figures were suddenly seen flying backward, spitting blood. The immense pressure swept over, causing the ground before the mysterious powerhouse to cave in as if struck by an earthquake; the earth around trembled violently, as if the sky were collapsing and the ground splitting apart.

“Grand Elder of the Ancient Sword Sect!” Han Li was momentarily stunned, but then a crooked smile appeared on his lips, unconcerned in his heart. Afterward, he scrutinized the old man a few times, his brow furrowing tightly.

A whole month passed, during which Chen Daolin’s activities were limited strictly to the academy; he never set foot outside the Magic Academy. He paid no attention to news from the outside world, and even when Lucius occasionally shared stories from the imperial capital, Chen Daolin would simply act as though he couldn’t care less.

The voice was shrill and piercing. Black mist surged from the altar, gathering and weaving in the air, churning until it finally formed a colossal black demon statue.

Seeing this, the streaks of light could only circle helplessly before returning to their original seats.

Nangong Haoyue’s expression was extremely grim. In front of countless mercenaries, in front of his own subordinates, he had lost—so simply, so thoroughly, without any room for maneuver.

“All is well. The senior healer said that after some time, I’ll fully recover,” Lexin shrugged her delicate shoulders, evidently unconcerned.

Suddenly, a deafening crash erupted in the hall, and a massive surge of energy burst forth from where the two palms met.

“Uncle Fu, here’s a strawberry for you.” To avoid further awkwardness, Jiu Xi stuffed the strawberry box through the car window, then turned and ran off.

The son, being tall, easily draped his arm over his father’s shoulders; the father, shorter, could only embrace his son’s shoulder. The two, close as ever, stepped into their home.

Luo Junlin didn’t believe that the Polygonum multiflorum cultivated by Wang Hao could have such miraculous effects. He wanted to see for himself what it looked like.

Zhang Qishan rubbed his brow, unsure for a moment whether to question Qi Ironmouth’s professional ability.

Though the local population was sparse, uterine fibroids were common. Word had spread that this hospital could remove tumors without major surgery, so patients flocked in.

He sighed silently, shook his head, and Virgil returned his gaze to the revolting test paper before him.

After chatting for a while, Mu Wanqing comforted Wen Mian, urging her not to let the incident affect her.

The feeling of being protected wasn’t unpleasant, but it still left February Red with the sense that Shen Hezhao didn’t trust their strength.

After Kyoto fell under control, these families formed an alliance to resist Ji Rulong and Ouyang Baiyu. Now they were executing their plan: first, circumnavigate from here, then attack from inside and out, hoping to shatter the alliance of Ouyang Baiyu and Ji Rulong in a single blow.

Withdrawing his finger, the blood-crazed demon—whose eyes burned with scarlet light—finally lost its glow. Its massive form flickered, transforming into a beam that shot into the black hole in the sky. The heavens slowly healed; the two realms would intersect no more.

Ling’er worried about Qin Chuan, and how could Pangu not feel the same? After billions of years of waiting, all for Qin Chuan’s growth and the hope of reclaiming the primordial chaos. Now, with Qin Chuan’s fate uncertain, how could Pangu calmly wait any longer?