Volume One, Chapter 43: Naive and Innocent

When Shen Zhaowu arrived at the company, she had barely sat down when she noticed a steaming hot breakfast on her desk.

She opened it.

There was a fried egg, hot toast, and a cup of lightly sweetened milk coffee.

All her favorite flavors.

Shen Zhaowu was momentarily stunned, about to ask who had bought it for her, when she noticed that every colleague in the department had the same breakfast. Ye Wu was already eating hers.

She swallowed her words, assuming this was a company perk from Shen Yanzhou.

Setting her bag down and hanging her badge around her neck, Shen Zhaowu sipped the coffee.

Since time immemorial, the struggles within the imperial harem had always been subtle and hidden. Someone like Li Qingmu, who chased people out so openly, was truly unheard of.

“If you feel upset, just cry. After all, my uniform is already soaked with your tears—just remember to wash it for me!” Zhao Mo said generously, still a little out of breath, carrying her forward without pause.

Everyone knew exactly who was fighting behind the scenes. They understood that if Reaper’s Scythe prevailed, its reputation would finally surpass the top-ranked Heaven’s Kiss, seizing the title of the mercenary world’s number one organization for the first time.

It wasn’t that there was nothing to say, or no desire to contradict, but how could one refuse such a humble request from an old man? No one wanted to sever ties with Shen Zhiqiu so lightly.

Ghost Butterfly suddenly turned to look at Qingfeng, as if struck by a thought. Qingfeng only responded with a helpless expression—so Qingfeng had known all along?

At that moment, the countless spiritual herbs seemed to come alive, their awareness awakened, and in unison, they stretched their main branches toward Qin Ning, as if excitedly expressing their gratitude for the blessing.

He nodded deferentially, accepting the red wine from the old master’s servant, then bowed his head and retreated respectfully. At the same time, a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Qingxue, next time they call, you can pretend to soften your stance a bit—don’t agree, but don’t refuse too strongly either. Just keep them on the hook,” Qin Tian advised.

“Don’t move.” Seeing Li Qingmu come to herself, Prince Jin reached out his left hand, grasped her chin, and slowly traced her forehead with his wolf-hair brush.

Seeing Old Fu’s delighted expression, he forced a smile back, wanting to speak, only to find his throat inexplicably parched, his voice emerging as a hoarse, guttural sound.

Of course, aside from the Easterners, there was another possibility—the mysterious Holy Oracle. Yet Ye Wudao did not rule out other nations joining forces with the Taishan Society.

“We must find that god-ranked Dragon Knight Swordsman, no matter what!” The old man’s wrinkled face lit up with excitement. After carefully sensing the surrounding aura, he fixed on a direction and flew off at once.

“Master, help me! Someone destroyed my cultivation!” Luo Taihua, having dialed the number, immediately pleaded with his master in panic.

Having stayed for some time in the Burning Flame Valley, Xiao Yan had naturally learned that Xuanhua was actually Teacher Qin Yan. The latter was a six-star Source King—if this were before, even Xiao Xuan would have been on par, but now things were vastly different.

Of course, at a time like this, Chen Feng would say that Ahri was beautiful! If Ashe had asked the same question, he would have said Ashe was beautiful too. A man must be tough when needed, gentle when appropriate—one must know how to adapt.

That kind of unlimited betting spree, when the bank is busted, even the casino owner will feel the pain—let alone Chen Hao, who busted the bank three times in a row!

The King of Trample, Langqi, an Elephant Clan member, wielded a massive iron staff and was the previous chief of his tribe.

As for the so-called “sinister energy,” Ye Wudao had already investigated. The place was eerie because it was a gathering point for three deadly yin energies; the Grape Manor happened to sit in the shadow of three towering mountains, making it the most yin-suffused spot in the region.

At that moment, the ancient well erupted with jet-black light; a beam shot upward from its mouth, piercing the sky with a wicked, demonic radiance.