Volume One, Chapter 73: The Wealthy Truly Stand Apart

“Congratulations on your son’s marriage, may their love be everlasting…”
“Thank you, thank you, please enjoy the food and drink.”
The Yang residence was situated in the nearby town, occupying several acres, composed of a spacious compound with two courtyards.
Today the household was lively; the doors and windows were adorned everywhere with red ‘double happiness’ characters, as well as lanterns signifying joy.
A man with the bearing of a steward, his face full of cheer, stood outside the wide-open gates, welcoming guests. Whenever someone dressed in finery arrived, he would immediately instruct others to escort them into the inner courtyard.
For this was the wedding of Yang’s only son, and the news had spread throughout the surrounding villages; even those without invitations…
Duo Duo didn’t quite understand, nor did she care to. All her attention was captivated by the novelty of the palace; it was her first time stepping inside its walls.
Da Fei was dumbfounded. What was happening? He had only meant to frighten her, to teach her a lesson—who said anything about killing her?
Beneath a helmet crowned with sharp horns, eyes glowing red flashed through the visor, much like those of the steed.
A tall warhorse, clad all over in black armor with menacing spikes, made everyone instinctively step back.
The three could only wait, watching Liu Qianfang and Yin Cangqiong inside the formation, wandering east and west. Sometimes they stood before the palace, only to veer off somewhere else.
“A man?” Lin Nanhong suddenly asked, looking at Lin Yun with a gaze that seemed to hold new meaning.
After all, the Prince Ming’s residence was a royal palace, heavily guarded. Even if he could enter, he dared not risk it. If he provoked the Prince’s suspicion and brought trouble to his master, not even death could absolve him.
The matron watched the hope flicker in Rose’s eyes and smiled quietly to herself; perhaps Rose had suffered enough to appreciate the orphanage’s benefits.

After listening to Wu Qing’s words, Helian Sheng’s expression flickered, a brief glimmer crossing his face, vanishing almost before it could be seen.
Though the conversation sounded like relinquishing control over the household, it was in truth a test of Jin Jinxiang’s abilities—if she succeeded, she’d become a threat; if not, she’d be deemed incompetent. Either way, Jin Jinxiang would find no favor.
“Yes, I remember Shaoqi’s black mole between his brows quite clearly,” Tang Yiheng replied, casting a certain glance.
Under the full moon, Zhuo Yu let the star disk float higher, lying atop it and gazing at the round moon hanging in the night sky. He wondered whether one could see people moving about up there. Tales of the moon had always been abundant, and many were curious about what might be found upon its surface.
Stepping out of the car, a wave of heat rushed forth. Xia Yucheng felt nearly overwhelmed by the intense sunlight, shielding her forehead as she walked slowly inside.
Checking the time, it was already midnight. Chen Erpao ordered the driver to leave, then took a rare taxi to the place he’d agreed to meet Xu Mei.
Wu Luo’s mocking laughter echoed behind Wu Gu, as he toyed with a torture knife, running a finger along its blade and gloating.
“We can have Bodyguard B bring a few miniature amplifiers, place them around the corners, and mimic Chen Xu’s voice. When the time comes, they’ll loudly spread false orders,” Bono spoke up this time, offering an excellent suggestion.
“When my journey ends, I’ll return and give them the answer they seek,” Yin Qi Huasheng took the burden upon himself.
“Hello!” Xia Yucheng replied in English, extending her hand for a courteous handshake, as Lu Licheng had mentioned they’d met in America.
Holding the TV remote in one hand, the other resting on the sofa cushion, I didn’t use my hands at all—only my tongue and teeth to finish the fruit.
Yet reality was that the white horse carried him step by step back to the Central Plains. The horse was old now, moving slowly, but as long as it kept going, it would eventually return home.
It is often said that retreat and fighting against the wind are the true tests of an army. In fact, that is indeed the case.
Compared to the somewhat clueless princess, the attendant John understood much about combat and warfare.

The strategist scratched his head as he looked at Ye Luoxiao. Were it not for her injuries, he really wanted to grab her shoulders and ask—where is your integrity? Where is your integrity?
Wang Jin reminded Chen Dong and the others: now that they had taken Jiaping City, the Xin Ludong base was showing signs of restlessness. Wang Jin needed Chen Dong’s team to enhance defenses and ensure Jiaping’s stability, as he planned to turn the city into a hub for production—a vital resource that must not be destroyed.
He wasn’t a savior; he had no obligation nor ability to change the course of history’s wheel. Yet he was part of it—a crucial part, especially after joining the Dream Factory’s decision-making ranks. In the torrent of galloping history, he could no longer remain an outsider.
Baili Yi was puzzled. Ahead was only a dozen miles to the Baili family’s residence, Baili Manor, yet this was a rugged hill, hardly the place for scenic appreciation.
The stares from the elite trainees made him uneasy, yet he couldn’t figure out why so many formidable experts had gathered here. Could it be?
Thanks to this prince’s tireless efforts, Fatima’s hard-won experience with the Caucasus defensive line could not be said to be as fragile as paper, but it was close.
Soldiers, under the command of junior officers, performed final checks on their weapons and ammunition. Heavy machine guns were loaded with long belts of bullets, ready to spew deadly tongues of flame at any moment.
In the royal villa, the heads of the Jade Qilin Kingdom and the two nations’ envoy delegations each had their own dressing rooms, with the necessary clothing stored inside. Since these were not valuables, no guards were posted. Dongling Chenyang had noticed this long ago and memorized the styles of Dongling Guyun and Duanmu Youning’s clothes in advance.
Wu Shan had been an old hand among the martial corps, no longer officially part of it. He had accompanied the army for three years purely to protect Wu Ting. Now, Wu Ting did not wish him to get involved in such matters.
She seemed to hear the laughter of her younger self once again. She opened her eyes, her cheeks wet with tears.
The sports car came to a gentle halt as Liu Feng stepped out—his look was a blend of cool and rakish, dressed in black punk attire, with a face both handsome and fierce. Yet the smile at his lips softened his demeanor considerably.