Bone weight: five taels and three mace.

If not for the missing piece of bone, Xin Shijin had simply gone astray—she had somehow summoned a male ghost instead, who not only fed on her fate and life force but also wanted to become her spectral lover. Such matters, once reported to the Special Bureau, were straightforward: due process would be followed, the culprit apprehended, and those destined for oblivion would be sent to their end.

Yet the missing vertebra in Xin Shijin’s spine was the unexpected flaw in an otherwise seamless affair.

Sleeping in Ji Ningzhao’s sleeve—

But there are no ifs in this world. He, too, had his reasons. When his family teetered on the edge of peril, what choices did he truly have? In the end, he could only solidify his role as the heartless man protecting his beloved’s fragile heart—perhaps that was the best he could do.

Marshal’s wife, Gao Meina, smiled gently. “Please, everyone, do not refuse. You have all come at my husband’s request to offer your help. I possess no particular talents, so I shall simply play a melody for you. Forgive me for my humble offering.” Her voice was like a spring breeze, soothing all who heard it.

“Do you know what you’re doing? Do you understand your ultimate purpose?” Z’s voice rose with agitation as he moved closer to Tan Qiqi.

“Old Sha, let’s listen to him and get out of here,” Zhao Ruo Zhi urged, already running towards the bronze door.

At last, the black disc flew into the swirling black mist and vanished. The once-churning clouds abruptly stilled, as if frozen in time.

These silverfish were of superb quality—no more than an inch long, completely translucent, boneless and smooth, scaleless except for a faint silvery sheen on their heads.

Her words were carried off by the ever-strengthening mountain wind atop the cliff, dashed against the stone wall and shattered to pieces.

Li Jing’er pondered for a long time. Disappearing without explanation would only worry those who cared for her. Leaving without a word was childish and immature. A farewell deserved the dignity of parting.

Obeying Yun Xiang’s instructions, one of the attendants beside Consort Shu, trembling slightly, lit the candles that had long been prepared.

She was still resisting him, unwilling to accept his closeness. To avoid him, she would rather escape Kyoto in secret with Huangfu Chen. Had he not gone to seek her that night, who knew how long it would have taken for him to learn she was gone? If not for his unease prompting him to send someone after her, he might never have known she was in danger.

On the brink of death, Zhao Tailong encountered the saint of the Miao clan’s generation, who cured his fatal poison with miraculous skill. Thus, disaster turned to fortune as he broke through to a new realm. Upon returning to his family, he defeated political rivals and, together with Guo Ziyuan, fought the Northern Qilin in Ji, forcing the Kirin Society to retreat and hastening the end of the North-South conflict.

Moreover, as the capital of China, nearly every renowned global department store had established a presence here.

The moment Yu Ling heard the words “Lingyu Pavilion,” she sensed the extraordinary nature of the matter; the current Pavilion was nothing like it was when Feng Yiling had been in charge.

The most valuable items among them were the pill furnace and the Universe Ring. Of course, the Rejuvenation Pill was precious as well, but it paled in comparison.

“Let’s leave it for another day. My fiancée barely gets any time off, and today I promised to accompany her shopping. Perhaps next time,” Ye Xian declined Qin Shan’s invitation. Qin Shan wasn’t offended—after all, Ye Xian had once saved his life. Nodding, Qin Shan led his men away from the commercial street.

For the first time, Bai Shu regarded the emperor who held Da Hua’s fate in his hands with a sense of admiration. Yet the Emperor of Hua spoke with uncharacteristic haste, losing the composure and grandeur befitting a sovereign.

“Is that so? I look forward to it,” Lin Yu replied, drawing both the Star-Moon Sword and the Violet Thunder Sword from her back, assuming a ready stance with a blade in each hand.

Narrowing his eyes, Ye Daolong surveyed the four corners of the hall, taking in the varied expressions of the powerful figures from the major factions. With a hearty laugh, he took two deep black storage pouches from his waist and handed them amiably to Xu Yan and Xiao Chan, who accepted them with utmost respect.