Volume One, Chapter 36: Why Did Dad Hit Me?

Shu Ya warmed the milk and placed it on the table. It sat beside the taro cake, a striking contrast of white and purple.

"There you go, Master Fu. Enjoy your meal, I’m heading out."

Fu Jinyan looked at the food, momentarily lost in thought. Hearing that she was leaving, he instinctively pursed his lips, his tone carrying a note of displeasure he didn't even realize was there.

"Where are you going?"

Shu Ya picked up her food container. "To spend the weekend with my daughter."

"The taro cake is Nannan's favorite. I made this batch for you while I was preparing hers. Enjoy it—I’m off now."

"Yes! Great Elder, I do indeed have questions," Luo Que said. Since the thought had occurred to him, he saw no reason to hide it and spoke his mind directly.

The Emperor of Han issued a decree authorizing the construction of a martyrs' shrine to honor the heroes who fell in the recent battle. I immediately ordered the construction to begin, placing Chen Deng in charge of the project.

"Charge!" I shouted, leading Li Xiong and Chen Zhi toward the weakest point in Liu Yan’s line, while his soldiers swarmed toward us like a rising tide.

The defenders were gradually pushed back into the city. Archers and mages on the ramparts fell one after another; some died upon impact, while others landed as corpses still radiating the warmth of life.

Li Jue and Guo Si fled in a pathetic rout, abandoning their troops. Most of their confidants perished in the chaos, as did many of the officials they had held captive.

With the silver in hand, Hua Xiangxue could not be bothered to entangle herself with the Hua Jingtuans any further. Without Huang Mei’s protection, the family’s good days were coming to an end anyway.

Minutes later, Li Mu scrambled out of the river, trembling. He smelled of scorched meat, his clothes were in tatters, and his steps were unsteady as he reached the bank. He raised his middle finger and pointed it defiantly at the sky.

After ordering someone to meet Jing Lan at the foot of the mountain, Shi Yi led Mo Jiang into the hills, heading straight for Jiang Yue's room.

As Li Mu broke through the clouds, he felt the world erupt in brilliance. Because he was transcending his martial path, he had refrained from using any external power or even his flying sword. He realized now that his restraint had been correct; had he relied on such tools, his state of mind would never have achieved this perfect clarity. Now, the breakthrough was imminent.

Lu Xiuqiang walked around the arena with his arms raised. Seeing that no one had yet declared him the winner, his dissatisfaction grew, and his expression darkened. He glanced disdainfully at the motionless Shen Feng and let out a scoff before slowly walking toward him.

Upon hearing that he would be singing, Xu Xian’s father nearly choked on his water. He had heard Zhang Xian sing before, back when they were out drinking with friends—a time when Zhang Xian and Xu Xian had not yet confirmed their relationship and were, in fact, at each other’s throats.

Consequently, armed with those leaflets, Han Qi used his position as Right Remonstrance Official to write a scathing memorial to Emperor Renzong, under the guise of reporting rumors.

However, Lu Xiangsheng did not agree with Man Gui’s proposal. As commander, he did not dwell on whether the Third Brigade’s colonel, Jiao Lian, could defeat the Eight Banners’ elite force of over 7,000 armored troops and nearly 20,000 auxiliary soldiers.

Qiu Niang, who looked like the reincarnation of Lin Daiyu, was reclining on an eight-step lacquer bed. Seeing someone enter—and recognizing Wang Anshi—she rose to greet him.

This included the concert revenue, which was the primary source, as well as income from advertising endorsements and commercial performances; the company took a cut of all these earnings.

At this thought, Bao Chengxian finally understood, his heart filled with hatred and regret. He hated the Ming officials for their broken promises—for claiming they would grant him high rank and wealth if he defected, only to trick and betray him. He regretted his own foolishness in trusting a mere Jinyiwei centurion so easily.

It was as if he had climbed seventy-five flights of stairs, signifying that he had reached the middle grade of the Seven-Star level—far more advanced than the Hongyuan Academy.

Zhang Xian was curious about who exactly Kim Tae-min’s subordinates were and what gang they belonged to, but he did not press the issue. Instead, he poured a drink and clinked glasses with Park Jin-woo, a gesture marking their renewed alliance.