Chapter 37: Retreat

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Upon realizing something had happened to the vanguard team, Jiang Tang and the others immediately descended from the rooftop, rushing toward the scene.
But by the time they arrived, it was already too late.
Wang Yuan was kneeling on the ground, clawing at the black shadow that had forced its way into his mouth.
It was all in vain.
The two human skins lying scattered around him told the whole story.
The black shadow pulsed rhythmically, devouring his flesh and blood from the inside out like a straw.
"Run..." Wang Yuan whimpered in agony.
Cheng Mo remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line and his brow slightly furrowed, as if he did not understand why she had suddenly shifted the topic to this.
"Plain cabbage, twice-cooked pork, mapo tofu—are you sure that’s all there is?" Ling Yue asked, sounding somewhat skeptical.
After Si Hengjin finished speaking, Li Shuoxi waited for a long while before saying, "No need. Let’s just look into it today. I don’t want to drag this out any longer." As he spoke, Li Shuoxi looked at Si Hengjin with earnest intent.

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Even though he knew Gwang-soo was older than him, Cheng-ho still preferred to call him by his name. Although it was impolite, he meant no disrespect; he simply liked calling him that because it felt more intimate.
On a summer evening, with the cicadas chirping incessantly, Qiu Yan set down the magazine in her hand, gazed at the afterglow on the green grass outside the window, and wandered slowly out of the room.
He hadn't even dried his hair; droplets of water traced paths down his forehead and facial contours. Now that the rushing water had stopped, the wound on his knuckle looked particularly gruesome.
Su Lili unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into her mouth. Hearing the soft inquiry from below, she looked down with disdain and ignored it.
Qiu Yan deftly put on her coat, touched up her makeup in the mirror, and picked up her leather bag, walking out of the office in high spirits.
Ye Tang understood instantly. Although her father’s illness was sudden, it hadn't claimed his life in just a day or two; there had been a period of hospitalization, yet he had hidden it from her and everyone else for fear of destabilizing the company.
"No!" Bao'er suddenly declared. "I love Daddy, but I love Mommy too!" As soon as Bao'er said this, Zhang Yang and Zhang Lishan both burst into laughter.
Originally, he had held Xuanyuan Chong in high regard, but he never expected that even Zhao Tieniu would value him so highly.
Just as the Spider Demon fleet was exhausted, low on energy, and preparing to retreat, the main Imperial fleet suddenly appeared.
Meng Yanyi could no longer keep up the act. Her tearful, delicate expression instantly twisted into a look of gnashing hatred. She tugged violently at the stallion’s mane, causing the horse to wince and whinny in pain, tossing its head wildly.

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Li Congjing nodded slightly and said, "I have my own arrangements for the war in Hengzhou. As for matters in Xijing, we must rely on Li Siping to put in more effort." As he finished speaking, the various generals of the army gathered at the commander's tent. Li Congjing sent word for Li Siping, then began to brief the generals on the current situation and issue orders for the campaign.
In this day and age, those in low positions trade their children for food, while those in high positions murder their brothers and fathers. The imperial court changes every few years—what is there left to trust?
After Zhou Jingwen finished speaking, she said to Zhang Yang, "I’ll head back now. If there’s any news from that side, I will notify you immediately!" With that, she turned and walked out.
Her ears were filled with the exaggerated, brazen laughter of the Khitan thieves. Ali simply closed her eyes, preferring not to see what she could not bear.
The other two elders nodded. Moments later, the collision of their internal energies produced a thunderous explosion, and the three of them returned to headquarters.
Song Zining drew several lines on a map of the New World, connecting one forest to another, though none of the lines were straight; they were all curved.
Xie Changnian was brewing tea at the rosewood table. Warming the pot, placing the leaves, rinsing the cups, and pouring the water—his movements were fluid and practiced, clearly those of a master.
Qi Hao smiled faintly. It was exactly as he thought. In truth, it was nothing extraordinary; whoever was guarding the secret of the ashes beneath the carpet in 701 was the killer. Perhaps he had never realized that the very thing he was guarding was his own death warrant.