Chapter 65: A Shoebox? Derisive Laughter Fills the Room

On the day of the competition, just as the sky was turning pale with dawn, Lin Wanyi was already up.

She wasn't awake from excitement, but rather from anxiety.

When Zhou Susu led An'an out of the room—the little girl meticulously dressed up in a brand-new, fiery-red outfit—what she saw was her mother-in-law clad entirely in dark, solemn clothing, looking as if she were heading not to a kindergarten competition, but to a funeral.

"Mom, you're dressed a bit too solemnly," Zhou Susu said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Struck by the sense of wonder brought upon them by the title "Taoist Priest," both Zhu Huo and Lan Tian instantly straightened their postures.

Meanwhile, someone inside the main courtyard building seemed to have heard the commotion outside, and suddenly began to wail loudly, as if trying to draw the attention of the newcomers.

"Well, everyone has their own plans, and it's all for building the country. We don't know their motives, so try not to make rash judgments. Just focus on doing our own part well."

Yet in the eyes of outsiders, his weeping only sounded loud and clear, audible even to the maidservants outside.

Seated to the left of Zhou Bohai, Lin Zhaoxue glared fiercely at Zhou Jiang upon hearing his words.

The reason was simple: he had taken a fancy to Zhao Qianqian's medical skills. In this realm of cultivation, who could avoid getting injured? Having a master of medicine stationed within the family could not only treat the wounded but even attract independent cultivators.

Hiss—Feeling the soreness radiating from his back, Jia Tian couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath.

People expend time and energy to organize and categorize things—such as history, ledger books, and records. All of these serve to gradually consolidate chaotic and unsystematic matters, helping people better remember things that are useful to them.

When selling an item of this nature, its performance isn't the most crucial factor; whether the other party has it, and whether you are selling it, are what matter most.

Backed by the protection of the sect governed by this figure, the Gu family lived in high style, making them practically monarchs of their own domain in Jiangcheng.

Li Tianqi bolted after him, but had not run far when he was suddenly tripped by an object. Looking down, he discovered it was a horsetail whisk.

"It seems you prefer a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit of fine," Gegan Chengji said abruptly, drifting away and hovering in mid-air.

By the hour of *Xu*, "all things are locked in the hour of *Xu*," and mankind passes away alongside the fading of all creation.

This spelled trouble. Given that Murong Shaohua was such a sinister figure, now that he knew Li Tianqi was in Chang'an, he would definitely come looking for him. Was he supposed to flee immediately? Recalling the time Reverend Xuanyin had locked him in the dungeon, a chill ran down his spine.

Yet things that seemed utterly insignificant in her eyes were far beyond his current reach. Thinking of this, Li Tianqi could not help but offer a bitter smile. There was a long way to go yet, and he could only leave the rest to fate. For now, he still needed to diligently practice the mental cultivation techniques secretly imparted to him by Uncle Song.

Walking up to the storefront, Mo Fan's slightly smiling face instantly morphed. Then, black lines popped up one by one on his forehead, his complexion turning as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Zhuang Zang looked up at the sky. He had already read Mo Fan's letter, and some of the things written within it were simply beyond his belief.

When he arrived home, Huanxi was cooking for him. He went to his room to change clothes, only to find that the money he had left behind was not a single coin short, which aroused a trace of suspicion in his mind.

Lu Linlang and E Shang sat near the side window, periodically keeping watch on the movement outside, terrified that some monster might appear again.

"Tianqi-gege!" Reaching back, he pulled Murong Xiaoyue into his arms from behind. At that exact moment, with a heavy *thud*, they hit the ground hard. Utilizing the footwork technique of traversing the void, he shifted sideways as he went, sliding to the side to dissipate the downward momentum. He avoided serious injury, but his body still could not come to an immediate halt.

A gale began to rise, and Xiong Ti knew that windstorms and yellow sands were the elements the wind commanded best.

Zhou Jiansheng smiled and said, "Just call me Jiansheng. What's with 'President Zhou' and all that? It sounds so distant. If you don't want to call me Old Zhou, you might as well just call me Jiansheng." With that, he used the game's mailing system to send a business development plan to Zeng Jun.