Chapter 120: The Ratman Crossbowmen and the Catman Assassins

Seven days later.

Wade stood inside the earthen pit, gazing up at the stone demon statue before him.

The mottled statue seemed to whisper lost tales of history. During those ten days on the wasteland, he and the skeletons had used the leftover stone and timber to expand the fortress deeper underground.

The sky had turned completely black; the wasteland lost its light, as if nightfall had become eternal.

Outside, all was silent—not even the wind stirred.

A strange feeling lingered in Wade’s heart.

“Come with me,” Yang Junyu was the first to choose a direction. “Let’s ask around near the place where he usually sets up his stall. They often do business in that area; someone there must know him.”

Upon entering, his eyes immediately locked onto Bodhi. There was a two-part appraisal, a three-part disbelief, and the rest were smoldering gentleness—a stark contrast to the indifference he had shown Bodhi before.

Just as Yu Mengzhu felt a warm glow in her heart, she heard the monk’s puzzled voice again.

The soldiers in the army had always held the Five Great Families in high regard. Later, An Suqi nearly became the army’s commander-in-chief. Even Pei Dan and others reported military intelligence to her.

“Zhang Zhao, stop taking it,” Gu Mohuai called out from outside, then turned to meet Ling Xue’s displeased gaze.

Muxi sat on the bed, hiding her head under the quilt. She dared not imagine how many casualties the fighting on both sides would bring.

Today, luck was on her side—a dead girl sold for five hundred taels of silver. Although not as profitable as a living one, at least there was no loss. After two satisfied belches, she turned and left.

But after he spoke, Shang Zeng showed no joy. Instead, his expression darkened further, his gaze colder. To him, the words seemed like mockery.

Before they finished their meal, the madam’s maid, Deng Fang, arrived to say that Xing’er was to go to the new residence for new clothes.

Fortunately, the Void Ancient Beast was already injured and weakened, and its power had not yet fully awakened.

After helping Old Ge to his feet, Xiao Yu slowly voiced his request: “Old Ge, I want my men to join your vegetable delivery team. There are some matters I need to attend to.” As for the specifics—what and where—Xiao Yu did not intend to reveal to Old Ge.

There had been several occasions before when Su Mingmei’s shoots were arbitrarily reassigned to Lin Yangyang by the company. But Su Mingmei was easygoing and never complained.

However, when he saw his prince change course shortly after leaving, flying toward the Chancellor’s Mansion, a look of realization dawned. He immediately relayed the prince’s orders.

The Emperor and Empress’s relationship had grown ever closer over the past six months. When they passed by, the Emperor was speaking with the Empress in the Kunning Palace. Both knew the true purpose of their visit and felt a certain reluctance in their hearts.

Du Juan truly did not expect Tang Hongye to catch up. Given Tang’s past behavior, she assumed he would sulk and part ways, so she was genuinely surprised.

But what could he do? Some matters and some people, once lodged in the heart, cannot simply be forgotten.

After a long moment, the leprous monk, Wu Er, took a deep breath, stepped forward to close the door, and turned into the inner chamber.

Fang Momo, mentioned by Tage, was the steward of the Qing Courtyard and Spring Dawn’s grandmother. Since Wei Man moved in, she had busied herself attending to her with great care and enthusiasm.

The two had cried with reddened eyes on the long-distance coach. After the tears dried, they chatted endlessly, sharing stories from north and south. Even in silence, their glances spoke volumes.

Qian Shi, like her, knew the new household rules well. Aunt Qi was her right-hand woman. If she now allowed Aunt Qi to be punished, it would be tantamount to announcing to the entire Chancellor’s Mansion that the humiliation at today’s banquet was a self-scripted drama.

Clever Mu Lan immediately grasped the implication in Wu Ya’s words. How could someone who left Shu at age three to settle in the north possibly love Shu cuisine and wine?