Chapter 123: Dissuasion

Mu Chengyao had been gone for several days. Apart from the absence of its master, the Mu household seemed to carry on as usual. Yet, at times, Mrs. Mu would suddenly fall silent, staring off toward the western horizon. Lu Yalan, too, found herself instinctively searching for that familiar figure in fleeting moments—at the dining table, by the staircase, in the nightly farewell at the door...

Some are bound by blood yet meet with cold indifference; others are strangers yet stir the heart with deep longing.

Only then did Lu Yalan realize that, without her noticing, this man’s presence had become woven into every corner of her life.

The military situation was urgent, and Mu Chengyao had left in haste. Lu Yalan, working day and night, finally finished embroidering a safety token before his unit set out. She still remembered how, when Mu Chengyao received the token, he restrained a smile.

Unexpectedly, he was truly unlucky. At the Battle of Red Cliffs, Cao Cao suffered a crushing defeat, and under Zhuge Liang's guidance, Liu Bei’s strategy was to seize Changsha, Lingling, and other commanderies.

Pang Bo sensed something and glanced back. They saw the Silver Scale Sword, a ghostly white figure, descending from the sky like Sadako.

Just as he stepped outside, the sound of a door closing caught his attention. Si Junhao, dressed in a sharp suit, emerged from the adjoining master bedroom.

Only then did Old Tang realize that Wu Chen wasn’t recklessly charging forward—he was using his very life to buy time for all the soldiers in his company to survive.

She paused, moved closer, her palm suddenly resting against Bo Yan’s cheek, then tilted her head and kissed him.

Tang Jixian yelled furiously at Chen Yaoyang, causing the latter's handsome face to flush red, then pale. He wanted to speak but swallowed his words hard, silently lighting one cigarette after another.

The tomb of King Xiao of Liang was combined with that of his Queen Li, covering an area four times larger than the Ming dynasty’s thirteen imperial tombs.

In truth, Third Sister-in-Law was not wrong. From her standpoint, her decision was understandable. I do not blame her.

The local militia were part-time fighters. During the off-season, they took turns training, defending, and maintaining order; during busy farming times, they rotated defense and security duties. They would only be fully armed during wartime.

Modern warfare was not like gangsters’ gunfights; it was a clash of heavy machinery, like steamrollers. This was a lesson hard-learned from World War II. Even the strongest infantry, when facing a flood of steel, were nothing but cannon fodder. Stanley’s approach was therefore straightforward.

At this moment, the capital resembled a city torn by the chaos of the Republican era—one side engulfed in flames of war, the other still basking in peace and revelry.

The car stopped at a traffic light. The air inside felt heavy. Yang Xiao rolled down the window.

“Well, I wish you success in all you wish for. Maybe I’ll be heading to Washington tomorrow. Should I say hello to Mr. Bernap then?” Li Mu dropped the formalities. Since he had been called a shark, he was ready to show his ruthless side.

Wei Renwu, clad in thick pajamas, sat timidly at the dining table. It was bitterly cold today—cold enough, he thought, to snow. Yet snow in a southern city was a rarity, a spectacle that might only occur once in a decade.

Bo Yi was startled by Denzel’s sudden charge but was quickly surrounded by two sturdy volunteer soldiers who separated them. Still, Denzel’s desperate pleas could not be silenced.

Yue Ming hastily took off his shoes to check the soles. Sure enough, the left shoe had a raised patch.

I suddenly remembered his injured arm and hurriedly looked over. His clothes were torn, blood flowing dark and thick.

But then I reconsidered. While the precision forging machine was excellent, the damned supplemental agreement restricted it so severely that it was even less effective than an ordinary milling machine.

Bo Yin didn’t respond to my words. I felt a pang of frustration. He seemed stubbornly committed to his own decisions—decisions like avenging me.

As I began to speak, just after introducing myself but before revealing more about my background, the eldest of the Sparrow Brothers appeared.

Everyone was already simmering with rage. Had they been armed, they might have erupted into a violent clash long ago.