Chapter 38: The White Lotus Who Pretends to Be Fragile

Jiang Yu pressed her lips together, her gaze unwavering as she looked straight at Cheng Xingyu.
“Miss Cheng is right. I am indeed not that sort of person. So perhaps some words are best left unheard, not worth taking to heart.”
For a moment, the atmosphere grew subtly tense.
The girl in the red dress couldn’t help but grumble in a low voice.
“Xingyu, I’ve heard that some people in this circle have a temper, and now it seems…”
Though the shadow of death loomed, none could say for certain if the brute might possess some peculiar ability to pierce through it.
With Su Qi watching him like that, Gu Yuqing cleared his throat, neither admitting nor denying, his expression unchanged as he continued to speak elegantly.
Nie Qingqing was someone who repaid kindness; she thought to buy fruit and visit Mr. Chen at home later, to express her gratitude.
As the gunshots echoed, zombies poured out from within the hull—recently infected marines, just like the earliest undead, wielding no weapons, making no attempt to hide and feign weakness. Instead, they charged out wave after wave, only to be struck down on the deck.
“Wan, how are you?” Wang Yuan sat beside her, reaching out to pull her close, but Wan deftly blocked her hand without a trace.
“Then let’s prepare to depart!” Now that the military’s reply was clear, Xu Xili made a swift and resolute decision.
Fu Jiu stood tall, like a thousand-year-old pine, his palms aglow with golden light as he lifted a blazing sun, intimidating and ready to unleash formidable power.
It turned out that, in her panic, Shen Mengxi had veered off course, missing Mingzhou and heading north toward Jiaxing territory.
In short, the ground was a scene of bustling chaos—even children only a few years old lent a hand passing things around.
Lan Xi felt feverish all over, tossing and turning in discomfort, her hands groping on the floor, searching for something cold to ease the heat.

Fortunately, before embarking on their journey, they had all prepared antidote pills; otherwise, faced with such an ordeal, they would not have dared to make one last stand.
Filming “Investiture of the Gods” was like shooting a historical drama set in the Shang and Zhou dynasties, combined with a series that required special effects throughout—investment was huge, yet the returns were difficult to predict.
A piercing infant’s cry echoed across the shadowy sea, while dots of ghastly green ghost-flames drifted from afar, and thick black fog billowed and rolled over the waves, eerie and terrifying.
If the awareness for battle emanated from oneself, it would be bound and disturbed by many bodily emotions, weakening its power, precision, and penetration. But if radiated through the blade, it was different.
Moreover, this martial arts short story was delightfully subversive. Though it spoke of swords, it was truly about the power of a smile—more like a fable in the style of wuxia.
Gu Xian, the leader of the Five Mountains, had somehow become a towering mountain himself, standing firm through wind and rain within the righteous martial world.
And now, “Yun Tian No.1,” which had entered outer space, had yet to deploy its solar sails, nor had it separated its modules or boosters.
Since two years ago, the number of extraordinary pioneers chosen from game players had surged; more and more ordinary people were drawn into this deadly game. Yet this brought opportunities—those with enough wisdom and courage were destined to rise above the rest and gain supernatural powers.
The guest monk seemed to recognize Gu Xian’s Spirit Snake Sword at his waist; hearing his words, he dared not neglect the matter and hurried back to report.
The soldier lunged forward to evade, spinning his feet and flipping over, his ghost-head saber slashing into the monstrous serpent, immediately spraying foul-smelling blood everywhere.
“Go to hell!” Gao Tingting shot Zhang Fan a fierce glare amid the laughter, then turned away arm-in-arm with Xuejun and the others.
Damn, truly impressive—they actually investigated me behind my back! Ding Er Miao couldn’t help but steal another glance at Gu Qinglan.
Xia Qingyang was also puzzled, though not about why Kui Wolf was so busy, but about its steps. He noticed that Kui Wolf seemed to leap randomly, but in fact each advance and retreat was deliberate; every jump landed in a fixed spot, circling the water, the landing points never changing.
The seals outside this pavilion were like densely woven nets, impossible for ordinary people to detect. But for those skilled in sealing, the view changed with their experience.
Yet Xia Qingyang waited and waited, but never spoke, and the hand pressing on Deng Yuanjia’s head remained unmoving.

Wang Mo spent several breaths forcing out that thread of ruthless intent, his whole body cleared and comfortable again. His face was dark, for what had happened just now was perilous; a misstep and he would have become a thing of reincarnation, losing all qualification to battle against the heavens.
The Dragon Bones Ancient Tower, even the Ghost Lord of Xie County couldn’t break it open, let alone these two at the seventh divine power realm.
This cellar was rather peculiar, not used for ice making. Inside, bright lights revealed a surprisingly clean space.
Yet the Holy Emperor’s words were not without merit—should they encounter such a formidable enemy, Long Yu might lack crucial means at a critical moment, be suppressed and ultimately destroyed. So with the Holy Emperor accompanying him, Long Yu’s safety was indeed greatly increased.
Be happy—of course he was happy. His son had spent three years stirring things up, and ended up founding a company valued at two hundred billion dollars. How could he not be?
“What to do? Just do it.” Kwon Ji-yong gazed at the tightly shut office door and sighed helplessly.
“It’s nothing. I was just thinking, once this route opens, you’re going to shed a layer of skin.” Zhao’er smiled faintly.
Song Qianru struggled to control her fear, reason warning her not to speak. But Song Qianru was always bold, and Lu Huai was the one she loved; why shouldn’t she speak up?
Third Young Master Lu was a figure everyone in Shanghai feared; he acted decisively. Once he made up his mind about something, no one could change it.
The hallmark of his MV was its authenticity. The fan’s fame was nowhere near that of the artist, especially since the artist was the renowned Liu Da-shen.
He didn’t want exposure, so he had no choice but to accept the olive branch from Crown Prince Chun and work honestly for him.
Yang Ying guessed right—Chai An’an only climbed into her own bed slowly after Yang Ying had gone to her room to sleep.
Even low-ranking officials and newly appointed scholars everywhere vied eagerly, but to no avail.