Chapter 56 Qi Yao
Mo Qianxun: ....Damn Lingfeng, you've made me lose such a huge amount of face. I'll remember this.
Lingfeng: ....Treating a good heart like a donkey's lungs.
Upon arriving at the temporary transit room, 008 conjured up a door. They saw that an extra door had appeared, but this one looked rather strange. It was made of metal, yet possessed a hazy, gray appearance as if it were very dirty. Placed alongside the other two doors, it stood out glaringly.
Mo Qianxun swayed unsteadily.
Suddenly, a surge of burning passion ignited within Ye Chen's heart. His gaze became intensely fiery, as if he were looking at five supreme treasures.
Earlier, the two creatures had merely exchanged probing attacks. Even when unleashing a portion of their strength, they had still not gone all out. At the very least, their combat mindset was not a fight to the death, but rather felt more like a friendly spar.
Yet, the rat ultimately dared not make the first move; it had been enduring and retreating the entire time.
Materazzi felt that for the first time in all these years of tackling so many players down, he was beginning to doubt his decision to injure George.
However, the strike containing his entire conviction was never released. The moment he took aim, the enemy had vanished right before his eyes.
On the other hand, Zhou Tai was bleeding incessantly all the way. With his emotions in a state of agitation, his body grew increasingly weak. Despite his overflowing rage, it amounted to nothing more than commendable willpower.
One must understand that Arsenal's style was indeed quite unique within the Premier League. Instead of the traditional British long balls and crosses, they kept the ball at their feet and initiated attacks from the ground. Therefore, seeing Arsenal resort to long balls and crosses just like Liverpool, the commentator could not help but sigh in wonder.
It trusted Long Fei and believed he would not plot against its life. It believed that staying by Long Fei's side would ensure its safety.
Hearing this, Gu Xichen merely smiled, reached out to pinch her cheek, and turned to walk away.
"Just because you can't do it doesn't mean others can't," Ximen Jian replied indifferently, then reached out and grabbed forward.
Scurrying like a wisp of smoke down to the first floor, out of the hotel, and into the parking lot, he got into the car and let out a long breath of relief.
The exact moment the opponent's figure vanished, a sudden gale swept across the shop entrance, and three figures slowly materialized. As the wind subsided, the figures of Qin Feng and the Giant Front-Pincer Crab emerged, naturally accompanied by the Blood Fiend Ancestor, who wore a smiling expression. Looking at the familiar shop, a wave of emotion washed over him—he had finally returned to this treasured ground.
He must absolutely not leave the opponent any way out, otherwise he would be suppressed by the other's foundation and never have a chance to turn the tables.
Not only him, but every genius of Mo Xiuhun's era had been reduced to mere supporting roles. That was the tragedy of an era.
Stealing a sideways glance to the left and right, he saw regretfully that the corners of Liu Baiye's and Liu Yafei's mouths held no smiles, indicating that they were still harboring resentment toward him.
Driven by this curiosity, Wanyan walked toward the reception hall, still holding the candied hawthorn with a few bites taken out of it, having forgotten to throw it away.
The architecture of the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts was distinctive, blending tradition and modernity. It exuded both contemporary magnificence and retro elegance. Stepping into the marble lobby, one could see eight murals depicting hungry children and people queuing for food.
Jiang Deguan slowly closed his eyes. Everything around him turned black, and then gradually grew bright again.
The newly appeared and speaking figure was an elderly man with a benevolent face, wearing a tattered cyan-gray robe. His hair was meticulously combed without a single strand out of place, yet the silver-like white hairs were still clearly visible among the black.
In the pitch-black room, only the faint halo of light from the window was visible, instantly accelerating my heartbeat. I wanted to retreat, but my feet involuntarily inched closer to the wall by the doorway. With a gentle movement of my fingertips, I brushed against the switch on the wall.