Chapter 59: Rumors

There were eighteen days left until the Incense Competition. Bai Huan only wanted to minimize the Bai family’s losses.

The Bai family had already begun quietly selling off their properties and shops in Chang’an, and distributing their most valuable spices and collections among their loyal servants. Under the pretense of returning home, these servants discreetly took these treasures back to Fanyang, meeting no resistance.

Only then did Bai Huan feel a subtle relief.

From Dong Yi’s side came news that he had already gathered evidence regarding the tampered incense. It was the Cui and Xue families who had conspired, switching the shipments intended for the Northwestern Army.

Li Fengqin, always quick to meddle, arrived at the house with Lu Xiaosong, whose features were almost as simian as his behavior. She was quite satisfied with this home; after all, she’d once been crammed into a forty-square-meter apartment with her husband and his entire family of five. After the divorce, she had nowhere spacious to return to. Here, even if Old Man Lu was counted, there were just three people.

Drawing a deep breath, Luo Chen forced himself to calm down, and glanced at his own cultivation level once more.

Then, Li Cheng stopped bothering to reload the repeating crossbow. As he had with his spear, he tossed the weapon aside and drew the Tang blade from his waist, slashing at the bandit who had already trampled over his comrade’s corpse to charge him.

After nine revolutions of internal cultivation, the White Bone True Qi settled into his dantian and sea of energy. At last, Chen Zheng ended his practice. Sensing his qi growing ever more nimble and responsive to his intentions, he was deeply satisfied.

“Don’t even think about it.” The Blade Demon and Tongshan, far from retreating, instead unleashed their formidable power.

I sat there, gazing at him with greedy wonder. Everything felt so miraculous—somehow, I truly had a child, something I’d never imagined before.

Chen Haotian scolded him affectionately, then handed him a bank card. “There’s exactly one and a half million on here. The extra half a million is a reward for Qin Ming.”

But Hua Guangtian would not let this rare opportunity slip by. With a swing of his massive sword, he brought it down with a force like cleaving Mount Hua.

His hand hovered above my cheek; I could feel the warmth of his breath, yet he did not touch my face. Only a barely audible sigh drifted to my ear.

Only Zhang Xiao noticed that the color in Li Yutong’s eyes was changing. He could clearly sense that the blood energy within her consciousness was gradually being eroded.

He promised to come at once. After deliberation, the subordinates of the Ghost General were all detained—some for at least ten years, others for life. Ji Feng and Yang Jiu, not yet sentenced, were temporarily held in custody.

However, Niu Su was present—she was one of Mrs. Mitchell’s people, so Mr. Messer wouldn’t dare act recklessly.

“I walked in here openly, and I’ll leave the same way. Sneaking around isn’t my style,” I said. “After all the uproar I’ve caused in America, I won’t slink away in silence, burdened by an undeserved crime. That would be a loss not worth the gain.”

“Yes, it’s a war,” Sha Tianfu replied, loading bullets into his magazine as he spoke.

This alone was enough to make him wary. The enemy’s elite assassins had already shown Shadow Demon their skills, so he dared not be careless; instead, his caution deepened.

Ji Feng was indeed unwilling—not because of the billions lost, but because if he failed to win now, his mission would end in failure. Gritting his teeth, he resolved to try once more.

Old Yan nodded. “That’s right, it’s them. The Ma family of the Northwest has always produced heroes—either true heroes or formidable villains. Of course, there are many families named Ma in the Northwest, so there are many such figures. From the Three Kingdoms to the Republic era, their lineage has never been broken. This Ma family, it’s said, is even distantly related to the Republican-era Ma family, and they are Hui people.”

Just as the foot was about to come down on him, Zhang Xiao took a deep breath and shifted his left foot forward. In the next instant, Zhao Xing screamed—his body, which had been standing moments before, was now sprawled on the ground, clutching his right leg and rolling in pain.

Her parents were honest farmers, warm and hospitable. Especially Mother Tang, who scolded me the moment she saw me, complaining that I hadn’t visited them in ages and saying they’d missed me very much.