Chapter Seventy-One: Surrounded by Spirit Beasts

At this moment, the spirit beast suddenly grew alert, having sensed the presence of another spirit beast. It knew the other had come with hostile intent, and so it was tense, determined to protect Zhao Linger and Zhao Yuan. The spirit beast left the tavern and, upon stepping outside, saw its adversary; the two creatures immediately began to fight.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yuan was lying in his room, half-asleep. In his daze, he seemed to sense a commotion outside. He wondered to himself, “What’s going on? Why is this happening? Why are they fighting out there? Do they have nothing better to do?”

He soon drifted back to sleep, but not for long.

Gao Chunshui sat calmly, cradling a teacup and listening, undisturbed by the noise, content to be a silent spectator. Old Gao was fuming, his hand trembling as he pointed at Gao Chunshui, resentment thick in his voice.

“Qi Bo, I love you!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder, her voice choked with emotion.

Yu Xueling narrowed her eyes, sizing up the woman before her, Fang’er, wondering to herself just who this person truly was.

Li Jinnian watched as three figures suddenly darted from the shadows beneath the roadside trees. Silently, he turned away—such matters were none of his concern.

Xiangmei exchanged a glance with Cuihuan. Erya said, “I’ll wait for you outside the door.” With that, she left, making it clear they could speak freely.

Ye Jian pressed her lips into a smile, her eyes already curved with amusement. How could someone as inexperienced as you possibly contend with her?

Thinking of the comrades at her side, those capable of anything, Ye Jian gritted her teeth as she changed out of her trousers.

“You’ve misunderstood. There is nothing between Cui Ziyin and me but friendship,” Chu Jian explained gently, not wishing Yu Xueling to get the wrong idea.

As Ye Jian asked her question, Xia Jinyuan felt immediate relief—it meant she hadn’t misjudged him.

In the sixteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu, after Confucius passed away in Lu, he was buried north of the city at Si. His tomb was no more than a hundred acres, marked by three low mounds, and the ancestral hall was but three rooms. Though lacking the grandeur of later generations, it was the purest expression of his disciples’ devotion.

Duanmu Ci sat down beside her. “Does Princess Akishino long to see the world outside?” he asked. Children who love to watch birds are often like that.

“In truth, we could still resist,” Wei Yue said, frowning, uncertain how to continue.

The Empress Dowager harbored a trace of selfishness herself. She was well aware that the Second Prince and the Ma family were growing restless, but she had raised Sima Yan by her side and was confident in Sima Yan’s wisdom and loyalty. If Sima Yan could keep the Second Prince in check, it would be a blessing indeed.

Seizing the brief lull, just as no one had yet caught their breath, the temporary captains began shouting for their teams to reload.

“Anzhi, it’s been a long time,” Duanmu Ci said, his tone affectionate toward the old servant who had followed him for decades.

“After I left Haidong, Zhao Hu took charge of Haidong’s defense, and Lin Jingzhong became the inspector of the Jizhou Inspection Bureau. If you need anything, either of them can make decisions for me,” Lin Fu said.

That night, the group spoke at length, sharing the thoughts buried deep within their hearts. Among men, among brothers, there was no need for pretense. Drunk on wine, they poured out their worries, finding unexpected relief.

But at that moment, Qi Yueling was still lost in the thrill of their earlier excitement, eagerly savoring the tales Old Master Yan had told of the young hero Ke.

Ren Xinyun hesitated for a moment, but in the end, she dragged her injured leg over to Zhou Yuanqiang, clutching the corner of the tent to help fasten it to the iron stake Zhou Yuanqiang had hammered in. Perhaps because she was crouched, the movement tore at her festering thigh, and even her strength could not suppress a low moan of pain.

Gazing at the dried sea of blood, Ancestor Minghe grew calm, his face incredulous as he muttered to himself.

“Are you certain this is the place?” Four Winds North Ling leaned casually against the wall, eyeing the lantern-lit gate before him with skepticism.

This driver had once been assigned to an old expert at the research institute. In his spare time, he would listen in on lectures, and so his knowledge was broad; he had heard many talks on filial piety and fundamental issues. When he spoke on such matters, words flowed effortlessly and with authority.