Chapter Thirty-Seven: True Colors

“This certainly isn’t cheap!”
The vendor, seeing Lu Yalan’s gentle manners, softened his expression. “You saw for yourself how exquisite the craftsmanship is. I’m not trying to cheat you—there aren’t many artisans left who can work such microcarving.”
He picked up the beads to show her. “It takes at least a month to finish a piece like this. I only have two of them, and you seem to appreciate quality. Twenty silver dollars for these two pieces—definitely worth it!”
Lu Yalan nodded. She wasn’t sure how much these beads were truly worth, but she rarely went out and had little occasion to spend money. Over time, she had saved quite a sum in her private purse; even after her nurse had skimmed off some, there was plenty left—enough to buy anything she fancied today.
She counted out twenty silver dollars and handed them over.
Just then, a delicate yet stern voice sounded from above. At the same moment, Li Cailian thrust her right hand forward, and the ground beneath their feet immediately began to split apart. An inferno rose with terrifying force, engulfing an area more than thirty feet across and surging straight toward Xiao Rang.
Freydeit spoke bitterly, glaring at the patches of scorched skin on his body, unable to contain his anger.
When she reached her room, she buried her head in the pillow and fell asleep. Zhong Qing’s battle plan was simple: conserve her strength now and strike at night with complete surprise. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became, and it was a long time before sleep claimed her.
“At such a critical moment, Qingjing still only thinks of her.” Right now, the thought echoed relentlessly in the hearts of both Qingchuan and Qingqian.
In Lei Li’s mind, the memories of the Thunder God Giant slumbered. Lei Li could sense its presence, but could not truly comprehend it.
The victory in any war is never a simple triumph; it always demands the ultimate sacrifice from countless souls to achieve the desired end. Yet every war is a defeat for someone, and so they must accept the inescapable responsibility for their actions.
In an instant came the deafening clash of energies. The Blackfish’s defensive barrier was forcefully shattered by Lei Li, and then, with a single stroke, the Purple-Gold Thunder God Blade cleaved the Blackfish’s body in two.
Zhao Zilong raised his Type 38 rifle, searching swiftly through his scope for any enemy soldiers approaching.
Jonathan was something of a technology fanatic; both he and his brother Hawk-Eye shared a fervent passion for all things tech.
After a few sniffs, Coalball’s face took on an expression of bliss. The whole cat flopped lazily to the ground, still clutching its food bowl with both paws, unwilling to let go, and softly mewed with contentment.
One Punch Man—Rachel hadn’t known about it before, but after watching it once, she couldn’t help replaying it over and over. The first episode alone revealed its charm. Unlike the manga, this was animation—the art truly came to life, surpassing even the comics, and from everyone’s rapt expressions, it was obvious how captivating it was.
It wasn’t that Yi Yang’s transformation from singer to a successful entrepreneur left her at a loss. Such things mattered little to her; what she cared about was their relationship. The reason her pupils contracted with apprehension was because Yi Yang had never mentioned any of this to her.
In that instant, his blood grew feverishly hot, and the surrounding air slowly began to heat up as well. But before his power could truly awaken, he had already forced it back under control.
“This is exactly what I wanted to ask you—how to arrange for them. If you have a plan in mind, I can report it as you wish. With your temperament, I doubt you’ll bring much calamity,” Gao Qiu nodded.
With the elevation of its quality, the artifact spirit, Shantong, gained a rudimentary self-awareness. It was as if a human cultivator had broken through bodily shackles and was on the verge of a new level of mastery.
This was the main hall—spacious and bright. Mu Lin, playing Dream Lord, sat in the principal seat of the nineteenth lord, with the rest of her teammates standing behind her.
Moments later, my hand emerged from inside the coffin, and I drew out a black token from the brocade laid beneath its base.
“It’s not too bad—no serious injuries. These bandits seem well-trained, nothing like common rabble,” A-Long observed. He felt the gang was clearly prepared, their actions swift and coordinated—not a disorderly mob at all.