Chapter 167: Rave Reviews from the Workers! This Is the Power of Word of Mouth

Li Junsheng and his group soon arrived at the machinery plant. Thanks to Zheng Rong's special permission, Li Junsheng’s entry was effortless.

Upon reaching the warehouse where the scrap was stored, Li Junsheng called out to Qin Yong and the others to begin hauling the materials.

Seeing him engaged in such heavy labor, A-Ping’s heart stirred. She immediately went to prepare water and brought a fragrant handkerchief.

Tang Yun pretended to be nonchalant as he wandered around the familiar starship, the Iron Helmet. Unlike previous days, Tang Yun was not only wearing a waist pack, but also carried a bulging backpack on his shoulders.

The two found the most primitive and cheapest-looking inn by the roadside and walked in.

Man Xingwuda and Tong Wen had seen many bizarre tricks, but this was the first time they had witnessed rolling, thick smoke shifting and changing like a living person. They were struck with terror, yet shock did not stop them from both leaping forward with palms striking out.

"What is this bodyguard even for? Even if Yingjun went berserk, he shouldn't have been able to break out so easily," I said, looking at the bound Yingjun with a puzzled expression.

As he finished speaking, a ray of light shot out from the depths of the desert island and entered Li Lingzhen’s soul sea. Fragments of information regarding boundary arts merged into his consciousness until the light faded away completely.

Although Zhang Muyi had been captured, Di Fa had already escaped. I had no idea which world he had fled to, and since it seemed impossible to track him for now, I had no choice but to give up.

At this life-or-death moment, three of the "spider legs" shifted from offense to defense, bracing against the impact, while the remaining five plowed through the soil to narrowly halt its momentum.

Elder Yuhan and his party retreated in a sorry state. Every one of them bore some form of injury, and a few were even spitting blood, clearly having suffered heavy damage.

Cloaked in his cape, Long Huiyun did not disappoint Dou Shi and the others. He strode along the winding, wide river with the gallant, majestic gait of a celestial god.

After continuing his journey south for another five hundred miles in one breath, Zhou Yue finally stopped. This was the heart of the Dead Wasteland; no one could find him here, not even those powerful beings gifted with divine strength.

Lin Yuming knew that Shangguan Jiafang already held a grudge against Huang Xiangdong; her question was merely feigned ignorance.

The government held control over the soldiers' military records and their lives, while the Prince’s manor held the purse strings. If the government and the manor reached a consensus, the soldiers below had no choice but to wipe away their tears and endure, no matter how much they objected, unless they dared to emulate the mutiny of Wang Chaoyang.

After a brief reorganization, Liu Bei pressed forward rapidly. In the following days, Xiongnu tribesmen arrived at Liu Bei’s camp in an endless stream to surrender, only to vanish without a trace once they entered.

Deep down, Lin Yuming was still grateful to Qin Manyun for her diligent planning of the event. He already sensed the high probability of the project’s success, and through his performance today, he had left a deep impression on General Manager Hu, forcing the man to act with caution and refrain from easily targeting him.

Therefore, Ai Ya hoped to unite everyone possible to resist the Japanese and achieve final victory. This required her to strive for the integration of every available force.

Hua She shook his head and said, "Impossible. Look at Second Brother; he is as elegant and composed as ever, without a hint of impropriety." He pointed at the White Tiger, who was currently exchanging courtesies with Lin Fengxing, and spoke with a serious expression.

The corners of Zhou Yue’s mouth, hidden beneath his thick beard, twitched. He had previously wondered why, despite the disdain shown by everyone along the way, no one had stopped him for questioning or caused trouble. So, this was where they were waiting. He just wondered if there would be a plot development—perhaps something involving a "hero" of sorts?

Shui Bailan’s "Cold Moon" continued to linger. The wounded inheritors all became her targets; as long as there was a continuous stream of sacrifice, the ultimate power of the Cold Moon would not be interrupted.