Chapter 56: Uninvited Guests

Lu Youyou repeatedly declined, saying it was unnecessary.

Strictly speaking, she should be thanking Jiang Chuan; had it not been for his invitation, she wouldn't have had the opportunity to work with military dogs.

Since they were all Gu Qingye's comrades-in-arms and their well-being was directly tied to his safety, she was more than eager to contribute everything she had learned.

Before long, the mess hall scene was recreated: Lu Youyou lectured with intense vigor, while the circle of people around her took notes frantically.

Lightning lay flat on the table, letting Lu Youyou manipulate him however she pleased—raising his head, extending his legs, sticking up his rear. It felt humiliating, yet utterly enjoyable.

Vaguely, she remembered how easily she fell victim to the cold winds. Touching the palms of her hands, they were lonely and freezing. It was always she who cared for him day and night, enduring his harsh shouts, yet no one ever asked after her warmth. "The night is chilly. Go sit inside." He wrapped his own cloak around her, gently draping an arm over her shoulder, and helped her into the room. She had seemed utterly flattered and surprised.

On the whole, the Elven race was well-disposed toward humans; this was the bigger picture, and nothing could change it. Yet in certain subtle matters, the feelings of those clansmen who held hostility toward humans also needed to be considered—they could not simply be left to harbor their grievances indefinitely, could they?

When Hai Rui was on his deathbed, someone asked him if he had any last words. Hai Rui replied that he still owed the Ministry of Revenue five coins for firewood. After his death, the Emperor bestowed upon him the posthumous title of Loyal and Upright, and when his funeral procession passed, the townspeople all came out to bid him farewell.

Mo Xi felt she could no longer discuss this topic with Yin Ruojun, or else she would be frozen to death by the Young Master's icy gaze.

Looking back, she found that whether it was Wang Hong, Ling Yuansheng, or Liu Siren, they were all gazing at him with the same solemn and expectant eyes. A surge of astonishment and emotional stirring welled up in his heart. He had never imagined that he could be so important to the Chasing Feather Sword Sect. The weight of the purple stone grew heavier in his palm, carrying a subtle warmth with it.

Siying silently watched his retreating figure. How could she fail to understand what weighed on his mind? In truth, how was she any different? To share a bed with a man she hated—what an agonizing ordeal that was.

"Xie Junhe has arrived as promised! I ask the hero to show himself!" he shouted aloud into the pitch-black night. Yet there was only a hollow, ethereal echo, drifting away without a landing place.

Utterly enraged within, he thought the old master of the Yin family was practically brainless; at such an advanced age, did he still not know how to restrain his temper?

Moli tossed her handbag onto the sofa, sat down, and crossed her legs. "The two of you heard clearly. I am not parting with this necklace. It is a token of the Young Marshal's affection for Moli, and I could never bear to part with it." As she spoke, she cast another flirtatious glance at Situ Xiao, who was seated nearby.

Right at that moment, a flash crossed Ling Yu's mind. It seemed he had captured something—perhaps a vital clue?

Even so, that creature let out several miserable shrieks of pain. Seeing it attempt to escape, I immediately pursued it with my peach-wood sword.

With a tremor of both arms, his muscles abruptly bulged by a full circle. The bone-piercing needles fell to the ground as a result, and he bent down to tear off a strip of fabric to bind the wound on his leg.

Ling Tian was no exception, but since the mirror's light seemed entirely ordinary, he made no move to intervene.

"Fuck your mother! And there are people helping you? You're nothing more than a dog to my cousin!" Hu Jun stood with his hands on his hips, looking immensely arrogant.

Therefore, the two of them must absolutely not show weakness; at this moment, they had to put on their absolute toughest facade.

"The master is dead. We can no longer sense any connection to him!" An'yi Zheng Yong walked soundlessly to the doorway. Though his voice was flat, it carried a deep, latent sorrow.

"Haha, what is there to fear? Just wait and see," Mufeng said indifferently, narrowing his eyes slightly. His powerful spiritual awareness swept across the entire rear hall, where he had already discovered countless treasures: over five-thousand-year-old ganoderma, three-thousand-year-old ginseng, two-thousand-year-old nine-leaf grass...

"Hey, Director Wu, Director Wu..." Cao Yin's cries were in vain, for Wu Yan was thoroughly enraged.

It was an impulsive thought on my part, yet I never expected him to actually agree. He withdrew the foot he had been kicking me with, caught the football, and took it.