Chapter 35: Missing Person Notice

“Brother Mu Ting, are you really planning to take the child with you to work?”

“Yes.” Qiao Mu Ting cleared the table and took Wen Quan’s hand, ready to leave.

“How are you going to work with him in tow? Why not leave him with me? All of my colleagues are women, and we’re not nearly as busy as your department.”

Qiao Mu Ting considered this—perhaps it was a solution, but could she really take good care of the child? He looked at Wen Quan, uncertain, searching his face for an answer.

“Don’t worry, Deputy Chief Qiao—”

But Red Sister’s face grew even darker at these words. From what she knew of Wang Cheng, this was the calm before the storm.

“Ow! That hurts like hell!” Meng Huo clutched his chest, lying feebly at the bottom of the pit. No matter how strong the rattan armor was, it wasn’t absolute. Xiang Yu’s immense strength still made his chest burn with pain, his breathing ragged and labored. He guessed his ribs must be broken.

“Yes, yes!” Meng Huo nodded frantically, hardly daring to breathe as cold sweat poured down his face. His composure was far worse than even his wife’s.

A young security guard glanced at Xie Yu, whose left cheek still bore the mark of a handprint, hesitating for a moment.

The most distinctive feature was the counter at the entrance, with a large ledger and abacus on top. Stepping into Moonview Pavilion, apart from the diners’ clothes, there was not the slightest trace of anything modern.

After lazily sweeping away the dead branches, Li Yongle simply lay down in the hollowed-out depression, slowly covering himself with the dried leaves and twigs.

“Otherwise, how would you have gotten up?” Rhinefield’s expression was one of total expectation, making Nora grit her teeth in frustration.

It takes a villain to deal with a villain. If Qin Fan tried to reason politely with Young Master He, it would be useless. People like that only listen when you beat them until they doubt their own existence—that’s the only way to make them behave.

“Don’t get too cocky just yet—those attack helicopters are armed with ground missiles. Two of the five are at the eighth stage, and the other three are at the peak of the seventh. We have to be on high alert; this is no child’s play,” Qin Li said with a furrowed brow.

“We’re all friends of your father. He’s waiting for you at the River God Temple, so you’d better behave and not give us any more trouble,” Ma Chengfeng said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

With that, she turned to head back to the car, but had only taken a step before her foot faltered. Embarrassed, she realized she’d forgotten about her own injury.

Though his waist had been slashed, for Niu Kui—a super divine beast with Xuanwu-level defenses—it was hardly worth mentioning.

When the man entered just now, Li Xiang had paid close attention: there hadn’t been any sound of locking the door, which meant it could be opened from the outside. Still, for safety’s sake, Li Xiang refrained from acting rashly.

I gazed at the layers of doors ahead and the omnipresent golden light, trying to step forward, passing through the burial chamber, and approaching that astonishingly massive gate.

Hard work can put you ahead of most people, but to be the very best, you need talent as well.

Ling Feng nodded. He, too, sensed the unspoken meaning behind Hua Weixia’s words. She could suppress Ming Ruohai and the others from prying into Qiao Qiao, but she couldn’t stop them from reporting to the Phoenix Clan. If that happened, Hua Weixia would likely be branded a traitor—something Ling Feng did not wish to see.

“Are you here to tell me not to turn on the light?” Li Xiang felt a headache coming on, but he couldn’t blame Qiu Tao for this—it was, after all, he who’d taken advantage of the situation.

Yu Wenbin was the student at Zhejiang University who treated Ye Wudao most like an ordinary person, and could also be considered the one Ye Wudao valued the most.

Given that the Qilin Society was only a local gang, they couldn’t possibly have the background to know Ye Wudao’s true identity over the past three years the way the British Yi Society or the Yamaguchi-gumi could. Otherwise, Li Lingfeng wouldn’t have looked down on Ye Wudao—known as Shadow Cold Blade, one of the world’s most notorious assassins—so much.