"I'll be waiting for you here."

The bridge in Jingxi County connects two other roads and three villages below, making it a place of constant, heavy foot traffic. Beneath the bridge rushes the turbulent Zhu River. Even in this season of low water, the river still roars with unrelenting force. Ji Ningzhao stood at the edge of the bridge, casting a few glances downward. The water appeared crystal clear, yet its hue was a deep, almost black green—clearly, it was very deep.

Vehicles streamed back and forth across the bridge. Ji Ningzhao’s group paused there, but did nothing to draw attention.

“Brother Yuhao, there’s something I want to ask you—about your work…” Chu Ning hesitated, plainly worried about Lin Yuhao’s employment situation.

Though Liu Liu considered herself already formidable, Chen Chumo knew full well that he still had a long way to go. There were situations he couldn’t control—like the Lin family of Huaxia, the third son of the Hong Kong financial magnates, or Johnson, the owner of MGM whom he had yet to meet.

“Young master, even for night patrol, you should wear a heavy coat.” Her gaze carried a lucid reproach. “With so many people coming and going, if anything were to happen to your health, what would we do?” Her voice was both concerned and sincere.

The moment Leng Yanran spoke, everyone else seemed to lose their resolve. Liu Liuli realized things were already beyond her control. The looks from those around her had turned unfriendly, even contemptuous. She felt her face burning ever hotter, as if she’d been cast into the flames of hell.

“In a short while, Qiyue will be sent to Jin for a marriage alliance. Let us go ahead and scout the way first!” He succinctly conveyed the purpose of Qiyue’s letter to Ming Mei.

The fourteenth young master knew she was teasing him, yet all he could do was blush. “Stop fooling around.” With a wife of such beauty staying at an inn, he feared drawing unwanted attention; others might think there was something more to it.

“She was just startled, but after a few days’ rest, she’s made a full recovery,” Wu Jin replied.

Wang Yong rarely spoke, and when he did, it was always to sum things up—he lacked social finesse. Such was Ye Zifeng’s impression of him.

“Who are you?” she asked, fixing her gaze on me. “What brings you here?” She seemed unaccustomed to strangers in her home, her right hand raised with a candle, as if searching for strength.

“Mmm, you’re right. But once he finishes his work these next two days, he should finally have some time off,” Chu Tianxing nodded.

She was already nervous about their first kiss, and Wang Bing’s repeated questions only made her more anxious.

He lowered his head to look at his body—it was as transparent as paper. The seawater drifted gently, flowing right through him.

Only then could Ning Feng’s new phone model be released and mass-produced. After all, this was the third generation of the Ning Group’s mobile phones.

The mission she had just completed had nearly trapped her inside, and yet the reward was only a few tens of thousands, paid in American gold coins—hardly the same league at all.

Fortunately, one of his former subordinates, whom he had once saved, had now risen to a high position. With his level of authority, he should be able to help.

The iron chain looked ordinary, flecked with rust, but since it had managed to hold the giant captive for so many years, it was certainly no common artifact.

“This world needs love, it needs understanding—do you get it? People need warmth, need trust, and above all, love!” Xu Zheng cried out in anguish, his exaggerated expression as if determined to sway the entire world.

A man suddenly blocked Ye Tian’s path, brimming with confidence in his own medical skills.

If that were the case, things would take a dire turn: he could extract the essence of all of history, just as Xue Shisan, with his power of reincarnation, could do the same.

The boundless, level desert should have stretched on forever, but it looked as if it had been battered by countless divine powers, leaving scars that only time could heal.

Thus, when flying domestically, only the airspace along the route is controlled; there are no F-16 fighter escorts, and inside the plane there are only a handful of special agents from the Secret Service accompanying the entourage.