Chapter 51: Give Me a Daughter

He was neither an unreasonable man nor someone who forgot kindness or loyalty. Yet his elder brother’s deep affection and steadfastness toward him made it utterly impossible for him to let go of his hatred and wholeheartedly submit to Ye Chao.

After Princess Zi left the Crown Prince’s hall, her mind lingered on the lingering aura of bloodlust that had left such a profound impression on her.

“What promise was made?” Zhao Junyou picked up the phone and, with a laugh at the coincidence, pressed the answer button.

“You’ve mastered the method for handling spoiled meat? Impossible. Absolutely impossible,” Liang Xu said, his tone filled with doubt.

To outsiders, the master was simply a Soulbearer, but in their own eyes, he was a deity.

“Well, it seems you have nothing of value left. Let’s wager this, then,” Chen Xuan said contemptuously, clearly unimpressed by the offerings.

“Are you done? You two are so lovey-dovey. Why not let me take over this girl’s body instead? That way, I won’t have to kill you, and I can continue to be with you in her form. How about that?” Yang Guifei suddenly changed her mind.

“There must be some great fortune hidden in this underground palace; otherwise, such a grand array would never have been set up,” Chen Xuan remarked to Ning Zhi.

Surely, a Soulbearer of such stature would never fear the head of the Li family, who hadn’t even attained the rank of Soulbearer yet.

But of course she was unwilling, so she threatened Chun Lao with suicide and falsely claimed to possess a deadly trump card.

Had it been someone else, their hands crippled in a duel, they would only be able to watch helplessly as both themselves and their opponent collapsed into ruin.

“How could this happen, Tirion? What have you done?” Calandra asked, her voice choked with tears.

Yet, in the throes of passion, he suddenly remembered the stain left on the bedsheet earlier; the thought made him feel as though he’d swallowed a fly, his mood instantly soured.

Their apartment stood in a newly developed district on the outskirts of the city. Fortunately, many buildings in the area were still under construction or vacant, and the lack of crowds meant fewer zombies. Had they been in the city center, they wouldn’t have gotten past the front door, let alone found a place to hide.

“Work is done; time to study,” Ellam stretched and returned to her room, opening a computer of some unknown vintage. Chu Yun had used it the day before and found it impossibly slow—he couldn’t imagine how Ellam managed.

“What sort of monster haunts the Lanruo Temple?” Wang Jin asked as he uncapped a soda, taking a swig and glancing at Yan Chixia.

Liu Shiyan felt a hot breath against her face and forehead, dizziness overtaking her. She tried to resist inwardly, but before she could utter a sound, her lips were firmly sealed by another’s.

Glancing at Chu Tianjiao, who stood in the doorway with a bag of fruit in hand, Jiang Xinying and Li Kexin reluctantly let go of Xiangyang and asked their question.

Ye Tan’s ears were still ringing; if not for the inner force resisting within her body, she would have collapsed in a faint.

Seeing her husband approach, Liu Shiyan suddenly knelt before Fang Yu, biting her lip hard and forcing back tears.

Over the past two months, all the local militia and guards had been swept away, constables barred from leaving the city, and the magistrates isolated within the walls. The mines began frantically recruiting workers.

Virnina materialized out of thin air, crashed hard to the ground, and found herself clutching only a willow branch, her mind replaying the events that had just transpired.

The Empress spoke with a gentle detachment, yet every word struck at Prince Dongfang’s heart. In truth, he had no desire to remain; his stay was merely a temporary expedient.

By now, winter had fully set in. Yizhou, though usually mild, was especially cold this year. The day after Liu Bei returned to Bajun, a heavy snow began to fall.

“That’s impossible; stop talking nonsense,” Dongfang Xuanming, though deeply fond of her, was at a loss. He could not accept what Lin Baoshu had said—let alone believe he was not the emperor’s son.

Shangguan Bingyu, too, inexplicably dropped her head, as if losing consciousness, and began to murmur softly.

These military households hung their heads in dejection, devoid of spirit. There were no rewards to be had, and with things failing, the Xu family and their kin would likely offer nothing.

For three days, Gongsun Bian lived on tenterhooks, but after three days passed safely and Liu Feng no longer prowled the city, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

As Huaili grew ever more frantic, the lid above her head was lifted at an unusual hour, not mealtime.

He formed a seal with one hand and waved. A pillar of blue light burst forth, exploding with a deafening roar, and the crimson wheel of light vanished, extinguished by the shockwave.

Seeing a speeding truck bearing down from afar, Long Jue jerked the steering wheel hard, but the car was wedged amid heavy traffic and could not escape in time.

Master Tianyuan was a man whose pride could not stomach such a blow; his absence from the Water Mirror Conference was easily understood.

The researcher, surnamed Ke, opened the van’s trunk, helped carry the luggage, then loaded it into the Range Rover with a teasing remark: “You two can go on ahead alone. We’ll meet you at the Fengshui Pass on the border of Qingxia’s two provinces.”

Despite the playful banter, when the airship hovered above the geological rift, everyone took their stations: Taisui piloted, An Ge and Hei Sha manned the ground weapons, Duan Tianxing connected the radar, and Wang Ping cranked the magnetic scanner to maximum, his full attention fixed on their surroundings.

Dingxiang and her classmates burst into laughter, swapping embarrassing stories about the boys who tried to court them at school.

So this Lin girl was migratory, like a bird, used to traveling for winter. Yet she was also incredibly patient. Since the eel farm started up, she had not left Sangjiawu. Her once-childish bobbed hair now reached her shoulders, tied back casually with a rubber band.

Along the way, she gazed far into the distance, stretching her eyes and lungs, feeling the breeze brush gently past her. Such comfort—it had been so long since she’d felt it.

What’s more, he had once been tongue-tied, but now he could lie and act with ease. All this made him feel the road ahead would not be so difficult.

Yet when the door opened, the house was still and silent; there was no treasured dog rushing out to greet its master as expected.

Hearing this, Long Pingfan realized Shangguan Wan’er had spoken the truth, and a sense of defeat washed over him. If only he were stronger, would things be different? Would he not even be able to kiss the one he loved?