062 Sibling Squabble

Qu Wan felt like a marionette, tossed about at will. Never had makeup for a film taken as long as this. Qu Jin had merely requested a touch more refinement, but the makeup artist had clearly gone overboard. All of Qu Wan’s hair was swept up, exposing both her neck and forehead.

“Miss Qu, how about this black gown? Or perhaps the emerald green one?” the stylist inquired.

Qu Wan rose to her feet and perused the rows of clothing, her fingers pausing before she decided, “The black strapless dress.” Compared to the others, this one was rather simple in design, made of velvet that felt soft to the touch.

Qu Jin, holding a teacup, glanced at his watch, then looked up just in time to see the woman upstairs gracefully descending the stairs with her skirt in hand.

In memory of Uncle Zhan, you inspired so many with your companionship. As long as there have been people like you in China, no one can say China lacks original music.

At last, the Celestial Ascension Path was about to open. No one could contain their excitement—even those who wouldn’t be able to enter flocked over just to be part of the spectacle. It was a once-in-ten-thousand-years event: a road leading to another world. What sort of world awaited beyond?

“This is bad. Eldest Brother has given in to slaughter. If this continues, he will surely become a demon.” As Song Heran witnessed this, his expression changed dramatically. He anxiously turned to Ling’er beside him and shouted.

The blond man didn’t believe Jiang Nan was weak; on the contrary, he sensed a subtle but dangerous aura emanating from Jiang Nan—a feeling honed by years of leading the Ten Sects. Only a true power could inspire such wariness.

Wang Peng and Yan Yingyuan ran abreast, keeping just two horses’ length behind Gu Baichuan. Neither spoke; it was far too cold, and chatting while galloping on horseback would be sheer madness.

“How could this happen?” The Infinite Sect was the greatest on Wuji Cliff, its power surpassing any of the Twelve Sacred Gates—yet even they couldn’t withstand this?

Zhuge Bulian’s fists pierced the void, unleashing the arcane secrets of ancient martial arts, each blow shattering the very air. But the black mountain stood immovable as divine iron, ringing with each strike.

This was simply Yang Tianyou’s nature: decisive and ruthless in most matters, yet hesitant and wavering when it came to matters of the heart.

The emperor couldn’t help but cast a few more glances at Han Fengxue. He knew the pride of Ao Yang and Ao Yue; for them both to praise someone so highly, Han Fengxue must be extraordinary indeed. Though plainly dressed, the brilliance in his eyes was strikingly at odds with his age.

“This…” The SS officer was clearly startled by Logan’s words, his wide eyes speaking volumes.

Thinking it over, Fang Cheng decided it was best not to pry. After all, he had no plans to leave camp, and it was relatively safe within the barracks.

Grandmother knew a little about feng shui, and she often treated strange ailments for others. My parents never believed her, dismissing it as superstition, so at first they took me to hospitals. But nothing helped. Only then did my mother remember Grandmother and send me to her care.

In the field, aside from those stabilizing the Path of Reincarnation, the rest had plunged into chaos. Meanwhile, Shang Qingyan guarded Mo Qianjue’s main soul.

It felt as though, in all ten years of life, I’d never experienced such a thing. Could something major have happened? It was as if the long-awaited moment had finally arrived—a thrilling, explosive news event at last, and the anticipation left me oddly exhilarated.

The whole family sat enjoying the marinated pig’s head that Lin Shuixin had bought, chatting and laughing together. Lin Shuixin hadn’t mentioned selling the recipe yet; she wanted to think carefully about what to say, and how to use the money.

At work, his senior colleague joined him at the huge washing sink, both plunging their hands into the water with cheerful diligence—or at least pretending to work while they chatted.

Looking back now, Bai Luo’er still felt a chill. Had Fang Cheng not been so resolute, she might never have found him again after today.

How he wished he could turn back time, never open that iron box—stop Su Ruoxue before she dug it up, let it remain forever buried, never to see the light of day.