Chapter 60 These Antiques and Calligraphy Are Mine

"Brother Zhao, you're finally back. I thought you had sold yourself to Sister Wen Min and would never return to Huaxia."

Tang Yan happened to be finishing up some goods in Ruili, and upon learning of Zhao Chen's safe return, she immediately ran out to welcome him.

Zhao Chen parked the car, smiled, and retorted, "With such a pretty girlfriend like you, how could I possibly not come back?"

"Hmph, sounds better than it sings."

Tang Yan pouted with a playful huff, looked Zhao Chen up and down with concern, and asked, "How was it? Was the journey smooth? Did you run into any roadside checkpoints?"

"I did. I put on disguise, so they didn't recognize me."

Zhao Chen gently ruffled Tang Yan's little head and smiled, "Haven't seen you in days, did you..."

As an elder sister, she felt deeply heartbroken as well, yet she was utterly helpless. Thinking of how Yun Qianling had beaten her that day—treating her not even like a human being and telling her to go find another man—the intentions behind those words were thoroughly malicious.

"You don't want it? Never mind then." Seeing Nangong Shaojing remain silent for a long time, Murong Shuxiao assumed he didn't want it... Then why on earth did he ask her to carve one for him just a moment ago?

It seemed as though my father had already perceived my true identity. After the two of them awoke, none of the tearful embraces or overwhelming sentiments I had imagined ever materialized.

Standing nearby and assisting Zisu in the training and selection of new recruits, Xiao Tianzuo couldn't help swallowing hard, feeling secretly grateful that he didn't have to participate. If this kind of intense training were to continue long-term, wouldn't these people end up with skin of bronze and bones of iron?

I reached out wanting to embrace him, but he nimbly dodged every attempt. Just as I was preparing to use my spiritual sense to forcibly pull him back into the ring, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Did you know your collarbone was scratched by glass and is bleeding?" Huo Shui's lowered voice was magnetic and slightly hoarse.

Zhen Shaoxiang laughed unceremoniously—after so many days, today was by far his happiest. Oh my god, was this outfit supposed to be serious?

At this moment, Bryce's gaze was as deep and luminous as his eyes, filled with a deep affection and focus entirely distinct from his usual playful banter.

The implication was to simply follow standard procedures without needing to cater to anyone's preferences; after all, they were nothing more than a defeated nation.

"Qing'er!" Su Zige placed the ancient guqin in his hands onto the table, stepped forward to embrace Yan Qing's waist, and offered soothing comfort while shaking his head.

"Court dignitaries, wealthy local merchants—every single one of them is a filthy rich financial backer!" This time, Su Zige finally answered Yan Qing's question seriously, though his face still wore that roguish smirk which left Yan Qing feeling thoroughly helpless. Too tired to deal with Su Zige's ambiguous attitude, she turned her gaze elsewhere.

"Number Eight, sit your ass down!" The man in the front passenger seat snapped angrily, turning his head to roar.

Before Gao Moha could reply, Xia'er, frightened by the sight of strangers, tightly buried her face in Gao Moha's neck, her sharp teeth biting hard into her lower lip as she desperately fought back the urge to cry out.

The rest of the people gathered closely around Zhang Yi, seemingly drawing a shred of safety only from being near him. Through this battle, they finally understood one thing: Zhang Yi's strength far surpassed their own. The looks they cast his way now were filled with awe and reverence.

"Yes, Young Master!" Acknowledging the command with a nod, four cloaked assassins stepped forward in unison, raised their crossbows to aim at Alfonso—who had rushed close—and Cornelia, who hadn't fled but instead knelt beside her injured brother in heartbroken despair, weeping bitterly. At the same time, their fingers squeezed the triggers.

"Many thanks to Lord Su for sparing my life, thank you, Lord Su! Please put in a good word for this humble servant before the Prince!" Shopkeeper Zhang began kowtowing repeatedly to Su Luoman once again.

"Of course I know." Lin Xiaoxia gave him an exasperated sideways glance. Look at how scared he was; even if she wanted something, she wouldn't ask for anything too expensive. Otherwise, what she bought this year wouldn't fit next year, and she wouldn't be happy about that either.

Seeing the two disregard his orders and act on their own accord, Luo Beichen let out an angry shout, attempting to intercept them. In his view, such reckless actions were highly likely to provoke the man in black and cause unnecessary trouble.

"Heh, how could this humble person dare claim to be the number one in Huangnan? Huangnan is teeming with talented individuals, and there are countless souls whose cultivation surpasses mine," Zhang Yi said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"What do we do?" Tu Fei's expression turned grim, a suffocating wave of killing intent enveloping his entire body, making even drawing his saber a difficult feat.

Before the seamstress could finish speaking, Senior Brother Zhao interrupted her with a wave of his hand, deep worry and tension etched across his eyes.

I hadn't learned history back then, so naturally, I had no idea what era the Western Han Dynasty was. However, hearing Senior Feng say that the Western Han was a very, very long time ago, it was already a miracle that the Soul-Sending Manor had managed to endure down to the present day.

In the Aoki Empire, almost everyone regarded alchemists as an extremely noble profession.

They must have simply been taken away by beings whose existence the Xu Mansion was powerless to resist.

"Meng Ao, the great general of the Qin State, acts with great caution. Upon receiving the news, he dispatched his trusted confidants from the headquarters to verify its authenticity!" Lu Goujian said.

Cui Guang organized the waist-drum troupe once again. Compared to yesterday's grand and imposing spectacle, today they looked entirely like a troupe of beggars.

Lao Ai was finally fished out of the water three days later. Having suffered severe burns, apart from the ceremonial robes of the Marquis of Changxin, his face was completely unrecognizable.

At that moment, Qin Feng's eyes burned red; he longed to plunge into the battle himself, only to realize he was completely immobile, trapped like a silent spectator merely watching the unfolding scene.

The weather was gradually turning chilly. Fearing the ghost child would catch a cold, I adjusted the window, leaving only a very narrow crack.

The three of them walked inside together and approached the elevators. Just as the elevator doors opened, the businessman immediately stepped in and pressed the button for the 7th floor.

A trace of mischievous amusement seemed to flash across the corner of her lips. Wei Qinghuai rubbed his eyes in astonishment, but when he looked back again, that subtle, elusive smile had vanished entirely from Qin Jinyu's face.

Zhu Pengju looked at Yiyuan Dou's face. In the morning light, she appeared dignified and supremely noble, inspiring in him a momentary, crazed impulse to marry her.

"Second Brother had a sudden matter to attend to, so after entering the palace, he entrusted Jinyu to me and asked me to bring her along." Wei Qinghuai knelt on the ground with a pitiful expression.

Finally, the elevator doors opened, and he immediately pulled Gu Xi toward the parking garage, rushing directly to his car and pulling the door handle hard, only to find it firmly locked.

By the docks, migratory birds beat their wings in sudden panic, filling the sky with chaotic, pale-gray feathers. For some reason, the sight made her recall her mother's words once again.

He could spend the majority of his income buying you an impractical, pigeon-egg-sized diamond, or, at the peak of his career as an award-winning actor, he could announce his marriage as if deliberately sabotaging his own future.

Footwear belongs to others; the Third and Fourth Young Masters were only responsible for delivering the message to Vancouver that the person wasn't in San Francisco, not for blocking anyone or forbidding them from entering Chinatown.