Chapter Ninety-Eight: Signing the Contract

“That's right, Little Shen, look at this,” the general manager said, trying to placate everyone.

“Then let me ask, Chief Chen: this commission this time, is it mine or Ma Yizhao’s?”
“It’s yours, yours!” the general manager soothed. “This commission above six—”

Zhong Wanchou shouted fiercely again and again, desperately trying to save Gan Baobao, but with a few blows he was beaten into a serious injury.

At that moment, Zhong Wanchou was filled with boundless remorse and frustration. Seeing Gan Baobao in such pain, he was powerless, and he hated his own helplessness.

Qiao Feng immediately felt a warning in his heart. He knew it had been launched by a master, so he did not dare to slacken and quickly raised his palm to block. “Bang!” The two forces met with a shock, whipping up a fierce gust. Qiao Feng turned to look and saw a man behind him retreating fast—none other than Zhaoqiansun.

Fan Shiya noticed only then that the driver had said nothing, realized something was off, and hurriedly pointed at him while shouting insults.

I dare not sleep anymore. With Jiang Sheng absent, my natural fear of darkness had been magnified beyond measure, so I let my mother stay by my side. She cannot sleep; only if I can vaguely sense her near me do I dare to drift off.

Clearly she was unhappy about Wang Si and his companions appearing; their appearance could easily have brought her exposure.

Pi Hou said a few words, then snapped his fingers. The children around him burst into roaring laughter, and Pi Hou, with a strained voice, opened his mouth and laughed loudly.

Xi Jiu signaled to Kyle, motioning him to bend over and come close. Kyle froze for a second, then slowly leaned his upper body toward Xi Jiu.

At this point, not only Qiao Feng and Ye Feng but even Wang Yuyan and the others sensed something was amiss. Although Quan Guanqing called himself the gang leader, had he ever spoken to Qiao Feng with even a trace of subordination? His tone was pure interrogation. Where had a member ever spoken to the leader like that?

Qin Changcheng ordered someone to bring Qin Changqing to the hall, and in front of him burned the letter Jiang Sheng had written.

The Mu Bei in front of me: I remember her first day at work—when I saw her being bullied, I stepped out bravely and helped her.

The sheer crowd flow here, like koi in a pond all scrambling for food, was beyond anything Shen City could match.

On the ceaseless river, Chen Ya had already entered the water. At that moment he clutched a paint bucket, drifting backward with the current, while adjusting his two legs in the water to move ever closer to the bank.

Such a situation was not common in general; in fact, the grain famine in Fujian had indirectly given the Chaozhou fishermen a bit of relief. Yet as sweet potatoes came to be planted on a broad scale there, the total number of fishermen working on the river had steadily declined, exactly filling labor gaps elsewhere.

If it had not been for her, Nine City would not have fallen, and the Murong family would not have been left with no successor.

A single Li Changrong was not such a great matter, but once one confronted him, it would inevitably trigger a chain reaction involving Chen Qice and Wang Xing, which would ruin the purpose of this trip.

It was Long Xinxing, who stood behind, that spoke first after watching Chu He for a moment. She saw that unless she spoke up, that Dragon Guard soldier would not speak at all.

Meanwhile, Qinxiangnan’s eyes suddenly turned cold. He clenched his hands into fists, gritted his teeth, and could no longer endure it. He walked straight over, and without a word grabbed Yu Han’s wrist, wrenching his hand violently away from Yu Zhen’ai’s body.

In the courtyard, Chen Ya let out a long sigh. Demanding money, perhaps, but forcing someone to kneel and hurling abuses—that is a betrayal of ethics and morals.

Qinxiangnan sensed her motive, stepped to her door in a single stride, and set his hand against it.

You’re all remembering it vaguely: this was no film. I was there in person, and there were no cameras at all. And that merman, with a basin, sprang up from atop someone else’s head in one motion, then dropped with a splash into the sea. If a human had done it, it would have been absolutely impossible.