Chapter Fifteen: The Ashen People

Night had fallen, casting a curtain over the city, and neon lights flickered in the darkness.

At eight in the evening, Yan Ming arrived at the quiet bar as promised. Yu Weiran was already inside waiting for him.

Tonight, Yu Weiran had abandoned her usual style, opting for a casual outfit paired with high heels—elegant yet simple, with a touch of feminine allure.

“If you have something to say, get to the point. I’m in a hurry.” Yan Ming sat down, glanced at his watch, and showed no intention of small talk.

“You’re really busy, aren’t you?” Yu Weiran ordered two drinks and slid one over to Yan Ming. “It’s on me.”

“I drove here,” Yan Ming shook his head. “I can’t drink.”

“I’ll call a driver for you. Wherever you want to go, they’ll take you.” Yu Weiran smiled faintly.

“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” Yan Ming replied.

So be it, if death was the outcome, then let it be. There was nothing left in this world he was attached to—at least, she was still by his side.

At that moment, Li Jingjing was still reeling from shock, her eyes alight with excitement, as if she couldn’t wait to plunge into research on this very subject.

Jiang Yue’e forcefully pried her brother’s hands away from his face. When she saw the bright red handprint, her heart trembled, and she too burst into tears.

Yang Ertou had tasted pumpkin now. He knew how delicious it was, and how filling. At last, he no longer felt so pained about the meat he’d lost—exchanging a rabbit for two pumpkins was well worth it.

Liu Xin was led to a large house, where he saw a figure wearing a grotesque mask seated in the center of the hall. Though Liu Xin couldn’t see the man’s face, he could sense the intensity of that gaze fixed upon him.

All this time, Liu Cui had played the invisible woman in the background. But when she heard the general was really going to take her as a concubine, she couldn’t hide the joy in her eyes, and felt a surge of resentment toward Mi Yue’er, who had tried so hard to stand in her way earlier.

Yet when she thought back to Lu Jinhe’s helpless look during last night’s nightmare, Xu Wan found herself unable to refuse.

He turned his head slowly and saw three people and a dog standing at the mouth of the valley—he cursed his luck silently.

“Isn’t that General Zhenyuan they’re talking about?” Xia Shi’s eyes filled with nostalgia, and in his ears, it was as if the drums of war still thundered.

After taking care of his two opponents, Feng Ling stripped off their clothes and put them on, binding their hands and feet with strips of cloth. He dragged them to the side of the mountain and left them with their companion, Old Six. Douzi, still uneasy, broke off some branches to cover them.

Seeing that the prisoner inside was still snoring, the jailer checked the lock on the door once more. It was perfectly intact—no one had tampered with it.

“Since the matter concerns the two children’s wishes, why are you all still standing here?” The old woman didn’t turn around, her gaze remaining fixed on the television.

The three of them chatted idly for a while longer—the perfect remedy for insomnia. Gu Qing didn’t even have time to say good night; she fell asleep hugging her phone.

Whenever she had free time, she would experiment at home with dishes she liked. Some of the delicacies described in ancient texts, she would even try to recreate.

Rumor had it that Qin Chuan was best at grabbing people by the collar and demanding: “Where have you hidden it?”

He was notorious for his bloodthirsty cruelty. In the harem, aside from Consort Hui, all the other concubines cowered before him, heads lowered, terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing.

They cared nothing for heat or harsh light as they scanned the air, searching for fresh blood.

“It’s nothing.” Chishen brushed aside the chaotic thoughts and turned his attention to the two children.

No one in the Tang empire dared to come here. Some said the place was steeped in plague, and that anyone who entered would die.

Qin Chuan hadn’t expected Li Shimin to guess so accurately. It was clear that Li Shimin’s threats had no effect on him.

“Yes, yes, Coach!” Han Dong hadn’t expected to mention Sun Yiqing and was startled, but the shock helped him regain his composure.

If Li Xuanyuan was a sword with a hidden edge, Crown Prince Li Hengyu was a piece of jade without sharp corners.

On the day Louis aided the Third Prince Saar in his coup, his performance was too dazzling. Subtly, he sensed Saar’s growing wariness toward him.

Yang Chen was discontented by Yu Jiang’s reluctance to explain himself and propped his feet directly on the coffee table.

It was only because of Qin Fei that he had started to pay attention to Honglin Capital, which then led him to notice Ningdong Technology’s stock.

They showed no fear of the heat or the blinding light as they searched the skies for a fresh source of blood.