Chapter Eighty-Two: Blossoms in Full Bloom, a Strange Phenomenon Returns

Liu He nodded and said, "Alright, we've more or less understood the situation here. Yanming, arrange for someone to invite the leader of the Maoqiang over. We'll rest for now and receive him tomorrow." He yawned—Liu He was truly exhausted. The journey had been pleasant enough, but travel fatigue was unavoidable.

"This isn't about military strategy, it's just human psychology and instinct. For instance, if there are two dishes on the table, one with vegetables and one with meat, most people will instinctively glance more at the meat…" This explanation left Xu Huang uneasy—what sort of logic was this? Yet, it seemed to make sense.

The main characters, Akira Shima and Ji Gongping, walked behind, appearing not to care about the conversation.

The Lorraine region is in northeastern France, sharing the same time zone as Monaco; the midday flight landed at Lyon International Airport, and then the company’s car drove him to Monaco. By all rights, the timing should have been just about right.

Thinking about it, given Tang Zhenglong’s current form, his price will surely be astronomical in a year. Chelsea made a long-term investment, and besides, Scolari’s side is acting strangely.

The explosion’s flames reflected on the water, making the whole lake appear as if it had turned into a sea of fire.

Things have changed drastically now: the emperor not only wants to reclaim Macau’s governing rights, but has also ordered the navy to patrol the islands, erect stone monuments, and declare sovereignty.

James Rodríguez and Pogba kept firing from the perimeter, Wu Lei and Oliveira broke through, passed, and created opportunities. The two young fullbacks, Salomon and Miranda, had already advanced to the winger positions, repeatedly sending crosses from the byline. In the middle, not only was Zhang Linpeng present, but the Brazilian center-back Lucio had also moved up—he, too, was acting as a defender.

Robed in red, the archbishops and the powerful cardinals were noble figures second only to the Pope. Yet, it wasn’t long ago that Lorenzo had slain one such figure.

Listening to their mutual flattery, the head of the Cao family looked utterly despondent. His only hope now was that Fan Kui could defeat Shen Longxuan—only then would his family retain even half of their share of the Dragon Gallstone.

Hu Er didn’t believe any of it, suspicion filling his mind. His eyes darted about as he racked his brain, trying to guess at Xiao Chen’s schemes.

A divine crystal, to some extent, reflects the current state of the deity. If the god has fallen, the crystal becomes completely inert. The crystal belonging to the Underworld God showed little vitality, yet it hadn’t fallen completely dormant.

However, that night, Aunt Xu slept fitfully. The next morning, Tan Meng noticed the dark circles glaring under her eyes.

Lu Guiyuan stared in surprise—he hadn’t expected this white-robed, ghost-faced youth to care so little for worldly affairs, not even wanting the position of sect leader.

Mary and Andy didn’t jump in. In this situation, they’d only be a burden. Besides, occasionally a vampire would leap up from below, trying to take out Bob the Bruiser at his firing point—those moments were just right for the two to get some practice.

Every day, news would circulate here; for example, some handsome, lucky fellow spent the night with a casting assistant and landed a job.

Gazing at the three bottles of Earth Marrow Essence, many cultivators’ eyes gleamed with longing—they were all itching to fight for it, to spend spirit stones and claim the treasure.

The moment he got the ball, it was intercepted. His passes posed no threat, and sometimes he couldn’t even receive the ball, no matter how hard he ran for space. Even when he turned around, Ye Feng was always there, inseparable.

The exasperated tone made it clear to even strangers who the speaker was.

Messi, after all, is a world footballer of the year, one of the sport’s greatest stars. How could he possibly transfer to Bayern?

The Prefect of Jingzhao's reputation was steadily rising, and the emperor even praised his outstanding governance in front of everyone. The Prefect was so delighted he could hardly contain himself.

Mu Tong’s eyes finally closed; her hand, which had been holding Mu Ling, fell heavily to the ground. Cheng Xian rushed to Mu Tong’s side and, seeing her lifeless, screamed her name in agony, his cries hoarse and soul-rending, yet there was no response.

Moreover, the emperor’s health was deteriorating by the day, his age increasingly apparent, and signs of fainting had emerged. This was certainly an ominous sign—the struggle for the throne would only grow fiercer and more brazen.

“Be good, don’t move, or I can’t guarantee I won’t take you right here,” the other whispered, licking her earlobe as he spoke.

Now, as Mu Ling saw the signal flare ignite—bursting suddenly before her eyes—it was as if the sky itself had exploded, instantly igniting the memories buried deep in her mind like a nightmare.

“Yes!” Xiao Yinghao and the others answered in unison, their voices especially loud, and hastened to follow Mu Ling. At that moment, Xili’s carriage arrived, and the group proceeded in grand fashion toward the Drunken Dream Pavilion. On the way, nearly everyone they saw was heading in the same direction.

The tenderness in those eyes was just like that white-robed gentleman from five years ago, who, faced with his beloved, wished nothing more than to cradle her in the palm of his hand, showering her with gentle affection.

Zhong Xingyue was suddenly filled with foreboding—the Divine Power Pill was being forced upon others. Did that not mean it was in no way a proper supportive elixir?

“Why do you call Fu Xin by his full name?” Ziyu raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Could it be that the closer people are, the more likely they are to use full names? Then how would that explain Fu Yan and Fu Rong?

Bai Lingjue sensed their stares and immediately snapped, shouting so that everyone tacitly averted their gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.

The black feathers on Ke Huan’s back beat furiously, obsidian light glimmering beneath the sun. Ke Huan’s body became a streak of light, racing toward the boundary at incredible speed.

Under such circumstances, everyone around was a local, all acquainted with each other. In that environment, people would side with kin rather than reason, so no one would care what you had to say. At times like this, words were useless.

The headquarters was laid out like any ordinary company: glass doors at the entrance, behind them the company’s logo wall, the reception desk below. To the left stretched the employee workspace, to the right the management offices—the first of which belonged to Gao Mingda.

Was he supposed to be like Rogers, chasing a plane and fighting Schmidt at high altitude? Lin Tian thought the idea was absurd.