112 Public Displays of Affection

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Qu Wan had been drinking, and her whole face was flushed a deep red.
“Jiang Zeyu.”
Jiang Zeyu saw how soft and unsteady she had become and asked, “Did you drink too much?”
“No.” She smiled at him, then leaned against his shoulder again.
Shang Mei checked the time. “Do you want to go out and watch the fireworks?”
Jiang Zeyu looked at her and nodded. “Alright, I’ll take her for a walk.”
On New Year’s Eve, everyone waited for the coming of midnight, eager to send off the old year and welcome the new.
Qu Wan sat on a stone stool in the courtyard, neck thrown back, watching the fireworks burst in the distance.
A few years ago, fireworks were banned in the city proper, but the last two years have been more lenient; at New Year and other festivals, everyone still wants plenty of commotion.
Xie Jing looked up at Jiang Youning, saw that her apricot-shaped eyes were full of expectation, and it was no trouble for him to agree.
Nan Mianmian was curious why the general had chosen to wait until evening, but she was even more curious why Leng Xiao had waited so late.

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At this moment, Yang Jiao also suspected that the Azure Emperor was likely asleep within the grave mound, and he was preparing to play a hand in it.
After gathering his servants and tribute gifts, Yang Jiao met Feng Long and Xinyue outside Ziyi City; in a little over an hour, he had entered Wushen Mountain.
Cuihua cooked with no restraint at all, explaining at the same time the secrets of making spicy hotpot truly delicious.
It was not fair to blame Cuihua for making this kind of mistake, for in the modern world Ouyang Ruzhuo was the sort of dominant, domineering executive whose wishes were law, and when he spoke, others had only to obey. In his enthusiasm, he never paused to switch roles.
Over the years, countless sons of wealthy families had pursued her, but someone as sincere as Chen Junlin was the first she had ever met.
As his adrenaline began to fade, Chen Xiao felt the searing pain in his body all the more deeply.
Remembering Old Master Chu’s kindness in raising him, Chen Junlin accepted the request and handed Junlin Group over to the Chu family to manage.
Indeed, Gu Chengfeng felt the same. He even admired Lu Zhenghan all the more, that young prodigy of the business world who, in just ten years, had grown the Lu Group into its present size.
“Dudu-du.” The deputy director heard Yuanwu hang up the phone and, with a helpless breath, set the receiver down; he remembered his younger years, when he had worked diligently and borne every burden without complaint.
In the live-stream chat, Tang Yimo did not even glance at the comments. The vital energy left in his body was far too little to convert his spirit into power again, and even calling on star power would have come too late, so he urged his qi to flow with the blood and gather at his chest, clustering at the Danzhong point.
In the face of Li Tong’s roughness, Yuexian did not resist. Instead, she twisted her body in Li Tong’s embrace and deliberately yielded to his greed.

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Li Mi had already made up his mind: if no one could understand this man’s words, they did not have to speak at all. He picked up a half-burnt incense stick beside him, smoothed it across the floor, then wrote a line.
Then Dugu Ming flashed, stepping back in haste, and the force of layered waves turned into a crashing storm-tide, wave upon wave surging toward him.
“Oh, how could I forget! Today is the day he tests me—the day he tests how deeply I know those plants.”
The Chang family would never let her retreat into prudence. The Empress Dowager’s faction was watching hungrily, and at court the ministers’ impeachment of her would not cool down either.
In Yuehua’s room, there was no lamp at all, only a faint glow from the outer hall where the night-shift palace attendant stood, filtering through the paper-shuttered window and spreading eerie, shifting shadows across the floor.
To oppose the Grand Empress Dowager meant losing the Chang clan as a pillar, becoming isolated and helpless within the Forbidden City. It was quite possible that Mogu Han would look down on her even more from then on.
“No, no!” Ilyia cried, throwing herself at Hercules, but it was useless; Hercules struggled once, and the fighting fire in his pupils went out.
“Before, Yao Xiong and Lin Hancheng both took a little while and then recovered on their own. I think Luo Tianyou will probably recover on his own, too,” Dongfang Xiao voiced his guess.
The black-mist spear at once became a burst of darkness that scattered and vanished, then Mamen drew it back into his own body. The moment it left Colin’s body, blood from Colin’s abdomen welled out like a spring and instantly dyed the nearby grass a deep red.