Volume 1, Chapter 22: Kill them all, leave none alive.

“Young master, what should we do now?” With no plan in sight, he could only seek Ye Qingcheng’s advice.

After crying for a long time, the child soon fell asleep resting on her shoulder, having missed dinner and destined to wait until midnight when hunger struck again.

Consort Hui treated Tang Xihan kindly, though their relationship had not been close at that time, so her demeanor toward Ye Qingcheng remained indifferent.

But beyond that, Wan Qi was more curious about how Yuan Shuo would react upon hearing this news.

Liu Chong thought that simply pointing a gun at Yang Shizhuo’s head would make him obedient and fearful, but little did he know that this young man, having experienced several gunfights alongside Ma Yong and others, had developed tactics for facing opponents wielding long-barreled shotguns at close range.

A medium-height youth with a pointed chin and a slight baby fat gave him an adorable appearance, especially the sweet girl with red-rimmed eyes, who seemed to have been crying, evoking a poignant sense of vulnerability that stirred sympathy.

Beiming Xie raised an eyebrow, recalling his previous collaboration with Jiang Jingming to instigate the Xiliang rebellion, which was later quelled with Ye Qingcheng’s assistance, ultimately supporting Jiang Jingming’s son, Jiang Yixing, to assume leadership.

“I started later than others; how could I not work hard? Though I completed my studies, my personality isn’t suited to socializing. Thus, I have no friends, whether during eleven years of schooling or my first year in the military,” Yun Xiao said with a melancholic tone.

If Liu Wei were here, he would surely grab Bi Xia and proclaim a soul mate, for what Bi Xia had discovered was precisely what Liu Wei had previously described as "momentum."

When boarding the carriage, Xu Shanda pushed Ming’s father aboard with force. Afterward, she noticed sweat beading on Xu Shanda’s forehead—once surrounded by servants tending to him, now alone in exertion.

Perhaps previously, neither Zhao nor Chu realized that five years of maritime trade with Daqian had quietly reshaped the cultivation market and industrial landscape in both nations.

Grand Tutor Pang shook his head helplessly. His youngest son was clever and filial but naive about worldly matters. Sending him out with Master Qin for some experience was beneficial; recently, he seemed to have made progress, no longer the reckless and ignorant youth he once was.

She recalled inwardly that in recent years, Jin’er rarely nestled in her arms to act coy—could it be due to her strictness?

“All right, eat quickly,” he said coldly, glancing down at Gu Bao’er.

The boat had been sailing for half an hour; dawn was breaking, but heavy snow and thick fog cast a dim, twilight-like gloom over the sky.

Tu Yujing opened the main gate, spotted a group in the distance, and waved. She called inside for Xin Xin and her elder brother-in-law to prepare for guests. Farmers were hospitable, always greeting visitors with warmth and generosity.

He realized that although their helpers had officially taken their leave, they continued to watch over them discreetly. He couldn’t help but admire Commander Ye’s keen insight—if only his own judgment had been as steadfast, what might the situation be now?

He had known the gathering point of these exotic beasts before, but at that time, there was only a single SSS-level creature.

Shen Xin nodded slightly, her concerns mounting. The decision was no longer one they could make alone. The South was lovely, but settling down required more than just liking a place; it took habit and roots.

The heir to Prince Jing’an’s gaze followed the line of sight and indeed saw Zhao Chengjue, who was holding a child—none other than Jiuzhu.

The reinforced fiberglass door shook within its frame, trembling uncomfortably. Chang Tianyao seemed to have given no further thought; when he struck the door, the rebound cracked the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, yet he paid no mind. One strike, two strikes, three—the tempered glass door wobbled dangerously but still would not open.

“All right, go ask, just say I have urgent business to see His Majesty,” Beiming Wu said, never feeling so restless before. Perhaps it was the weight of her thoughts that made her so uneasy.

Daylight was a time of hard labor. Since they were deep in desert and gobi lands, transporting vegetables was difficult, so prisoners from the jail cultivated the fields themselves—a vast expanse tended by inmates bent low in their prison garb.

“Da Ying, if you won’t eat it, then I will,” a few relatives eyed the meat in Lin Da Ying’s bowl longingly. Earlier, when Lin Miao’s mother took it away, they dared not voice their displeasure.

On the way to the hospital, Zhou Liangping was fine but kept drinking water and sweating profusely.

“Master, I only just learned of this matter myself. It is unfortunate timing. The imperial physician instructed that His Majesty must rest undisturbed; I therefore ordered the guards at the door to prevent anyone’s entry. That is why Lady Piaoling’s visit was delayed. I beg your forgiveness,” Wei Qi explained the situation slowly.

That morning, she had gone to get medicine for her brother, who had run out, and took him out for breakfast, causing some delay. Otherwise, she had planned to return to school early to wait for her uncle’s family.

That night, the wind howled fiercely as if to tear the roof off, the north wind rushed wildly, and in spring, thick white snow began to fall, chilling the drafty prison.

Clearly, whether he had pushed Qian Mengru first or she had pushed him back, both had to enter the dream protector’s domain. Only after passing this guardian could they truly be together.

A faint sound came from Gao Jinxing’s pocket. Hearing it, he hurriedly pulled out a pager from his belt.

Back then, the sister complex was oblivious, thinking, “Once I make a name for myself, you will surely return to my embrace.”

This was the harsh reality dictated by professional ranks. Though their teammates were trying their best, surpassing these long-established masters was indeed a near impossibility.