Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

Xiaobao was momentarily stunned, then said, “A-Mian, the digital version of the art book is ready. You received the email, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, just letting you know. If you don’t see any issues, I’ll arrange for the publisher to start printing.” Xiaobao grinned.

...

The puppet slowly withdrew its hands from the old woman’s chest, and for once, its eyes regained clarity. A muffled cry escaped its throat.

For Chu Ci knew, in this world, only Li Xiuyi now possessed the power to open the portal leading to the underground realm.

A scene that felt eerily familiar suddenly unfolded before his eyes. Searching his memory for when he had encountered it, he realized, with a jolt, that it had been in a dream.

Su Kouye, having been through much in life, understood how painful heartbreak could be. But he also knew that if one could endure the pain, the heart would emerge much stronger.

“No, no, you’re not really one of us yet. There’s no need to talk about seniority,” Uncle He waved his hand dismissively.

Along the way, they forgot to change into modern clothes again, attracting quite a few curious gazes. Hastily, they found a clothing store, each chose new outfits, and then set off on their journey once more.

“What on earth happened? Can you tell me now?” she asked anxiously.

Within a day, someone came to claim the body. The claimant was the dead man’s wife. Investigation revealed the man’s surname was Chi, given name Yin, from Bahong Village, a little over ten miles from Qiaozhuang. He was emaciated, destitute, and survived by stealing.

Perhaps because of that dream, Xue Tingrang had always been disappointed in the officials—none of them possessed the qualities an official ought to have. They only moved for profit, formed cliques, excluded dissent, ignored right and wrong, and, as officials, were ignorant of the hardships of the people, seeking only personal gain.

Passing through the special channel was no different than before; the city gate was divided into two sections, one for ordinary citizens and one for caravans.

“Sir, when did you move a sofa in here?” Yi Feishi asked as he sat down beside Xie Mao.

The streetlights along this road were still dark, and there was no moon in the sky. Without any light, Lu Huai couldn’t make out Ye Chu’s face.

As long as they crossed that massive vortex, they could return to the Misty Waters World; all they had to do was shut down the energy devices made from fish bones and giant shells.

The great battle slowly drew to a close amid the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of skeletal soldiers; both sides’ running infantry suffered devastating losses.

After that, Situ Fei unified the three tribes and ascended to sainthood. As the protagonist’s fate dictated, he had fulfilled his destiny and, after his ascension, only needed to be worshipped by the believers of the lower realm, enjoying their offerings.

Wen Yiming nodded in agreement—let alone ancient times, things can’t even compare to fifty years ago! Now, with all the artificial interference, the land is barren, and more importantly, people are impatient—who would spend a lifetime waiting for agarwood to mature?

After a lengthy argument with Lin Ge, Yu Haiping gave up; Lin Ge’s way of thinking was completely unlike that of ordinary people.

Scouts are responsible for targets, routes, and gathering intelligence; their decisions often determine the success or failure of an operation, so they must be bold, meticulous, shrewd, capable, quick-thinking, and decisive.

The Pacification Office had no power over life and death, but the Military Governor’s Camp did. Combined with the raising of the Royal Banner, this amounted to a significant upgrade—any official of fourth rank or below could be executed without approval from the central authority.

In the photograph, Xu Dashan was dressed in nightclothes, his face clearly visible as he climbed over a wall.

On the battlefield, what truly mattered was the courage of the generals, the toughness of the soldiers, well-drilled discipline, and the fearless aura of men who would not flinch even with a steel blade at their throats.

Ye Mo slammed the opponent to the ground with a bang and pinned her by the throat.

Ye Wushuang examined the protruding bricks, squatted down, and pushed them one by one until, at last, one of them moved.