Strange sound

The sound was not particularly loud, yet for some reason it seemed to linger persistently at her ear. Ji Ningzhao, troubled by a growing unease and the elusive murmur, found it impossible to sleep. She sat up, clutching her blanket. Glancing at the alarm clock on her bedside table, she saw it was exactly two in the morning—midnight.

As she fully awoke from her half-dreaming state, the sound became a bit clearer, though still faint, as if coming from far beyond her home.

Last night, Lu Wei had learned the address of Liu Gui’s residence from Qian Huai, and the auspiciously numbered house he had just inquired about belonged to Liu Gui.

They were tall and gaunt, skin pale and cold, their eyes a deep, icy blue, and their skin luminous as the moon.

Sun Zhuo recalled a scene from his previous life: it was after O’Neil had retired, when he came to the Thunder’s home court to watch the game between the Thunder and the Spurs. Before the match, O’Neil sat in the front row, and thanks to his legendary status, many approached to greet him.

Yet Aunt Lan was a strong-willed woman. Since the lady of the house had made it clear she would not interfere, Aunt Lan was determined to raise the child herself, refusing to let her son simply follow her and learn nothing.

A little over a week later, after following their planned route through the first three sites, the troops finally neared the fourth location. It was a deeper area; where once adventurers appeared now, in the past two days, few had been seen.

Luo Dayou had expected to arrive first, thinking Chairman Li would be slower, but to his surprise, Chairman Li was already there.

Li Yan glanced back at the white-haired elder and frowned—this old man was clearly intent on making things difficult for him.

The staff in charge of monitoring the live comments looked over and relayed the message to the cameraman. The cameraman seemed tempted, but in the end shook his head vehemently.

Diao Chan leaned on the windowsill, resting her chin on her hand. Her ethereal face was filled with confusion, her eyes misty as a drizzle.

Returning to the trading company, Lin Zhumin and Lin Tao began interrogating the prisoners. The man seemed resigned to death; Lin Tao had to resort to certain “techniques,” but by dawn, the prisoner had still revealed nothing.

Fang Jiuling, her face flushed with shyness, glared angrily, then dashed away. Her long legs appeared and disappeared beneath the gauzy fabric. Cui Feng wore a cheerful, mischievous grin, as if begging for trouble.

“Hehe, he still doesn’t know?” Su Runqing immediately understood Dong Zhanyun’s thoughts just from his look. “He’s only worried about me.” With this, Su Qingrun secretly sulked, and—on impulse—arched her brow at Dong Zhanyun.

Above the western city, space was torn open and a middle-aged man stepped out. The moment he appeared, all the gifted youths within the city felt the entire West City freeze—even the dust in the air seemed to stop moving.

Looking across Dayong, it seemed only Jin Xiuchen, of the older generation, was capable of interrogating Prince Gong.

“He’s probably lost somewhere in drunken revelry, a useless man. Why should I bother looking for him?” Prince Ning replied coldly, his words devoid of warmth.

Thinking of this, Peng Mo silently wept again. She had been overwhelmed with thoughts these days—both from her past and present lives. She hadn’t been prone to overthinking before, but now her mind was blank, and memories flooded in relentlessly, leaving her powerless to resist.

“Oh, Sen Xixia, Sen Xixia,” Xing Silo murmured again, shaking his head with a look of sorrowful disappointment.

Of course, the blood mist was not merely for show. Only now did he realize its potent corrosive effect—not merely physical, but capable of eroding even soul energy!

The violet-clad frog hopped out from behind the terrace, bounding toward the main gate. As it fixed its gaze, it saw two familiar figures pushing open the door and stepping inside.