Chapter 100: Please Take Me Home (A Lengthy Chapter of 5,000 Words, More to Come During the Day)

He couldn’t continue speaking. Grabbing the steamed bun on the table, he bit into it fiercely but couldn’t swallow. Only then did Xu Chengjun understand why his elder brother had returned late. It wasn’t because of severe injuries, but because his heart bore the weight of unbearable guilt.

He imagined his brother dragging his wounded arm through the forest thick with lingering gunfire, searching for comrades, then visiting their parents alone. His nose tingled with emotion.

“Siyuan fell behind to cover me,” Xu Jianjun suddenly spoke, the scar on his face more pronounced under the light.

The child cradled in the cradle was clearly his own grandson, a bloodline of the Beitang family. Yet, the boy had to call someone else grandpa and grow up in another family.

Zhang Yiyi spoke nothing but the truth, publicly declaring the ten varieties of spiritual herbs and guaranteeing their age was just over five thousand years, not a moment less.

Yet deep inside, she constantly reminded herself that if one day her unit asked her to move out of the cadre building, she would have no complaints and would leave immediately.

The soldiers untied Yin Siyao, and Lan Xinyue and Qing Ning’s group rushed toward him without hesitation.

Yang Qingyue pulled out a phonebook from her pocket, searching for the number of Liu Yan’s colleague Xu Ying’s father while dialing.

“Master! Silver Sparrow doesn’t want to see you die! Silver Sparrow wants you to live well! Even though your heart belongs only to Sanniang, Silver Sparrow is willing to stay by your side and help you do the things you don’t want to do!” No sooner had she spoken than Silver Sparrow dashed forward.

Gu Nian noticed the male disciple’s face visibly flush red and felt a flicker of confusion, yet she introduced herself nonetheless.

“Pure Heart, Pure Heart, senior brother, it must be her!” Ji Zishuo gritted his teeth as he was restrained by numerous ghost talismans, warning Song Bo.

His mother had just explained the weak points of these bamboo-jointed beasts through the Five Intentions Spiritual Realm ring, but he could still take his time; there was no rush.

Although Lei Dachui didn’t fully understand the strength of transcendents and immortal realm experts, having witnessed SS-level monsters, he was certain this power surpassed them — and not by a little.

At that moment, Lei Dachui’s gaze settled on a larger enclosure where a group of ape-like creatures gathered.

Previously, she had heard about Dr. Er’s bad temper. Having accompanied her father a few times, she found the man polite and even respectful toward her father.

But the longer I looked at the gray-streaked wall, as I told Gu Xi before, the more I saw, gradually entering a trance, unaware that the pair of eyes nearby quietly opened.

He wanted the Mu family to accept it falsely because his chance of living with them was nearly zero. Therefore, his true purpose was for Mu Zhijun.

Everything seemed normal for Mu Zhijun, but Jian Yijun insisted on hospitalizing him, citing heart discomfort. Because of his special status, even the hospital director came shortly after.

He said, “Coffee is like life, always beginning bitter. Whether it turns sweet depends on your own making.”

Recalling the photo he saw that morning, Su Jingchu hesitated briefly before finally clicking on it.

Because I can’t drink much, I used to avoid these situations whenever possible, but now there’s no choice—I just have to face it head-on.

Han Linjun promised her a house through contract renewal, so she didn’t need to sell; she actually loved it here.

When Lu Yanshi returned to the classroom, Wu Zhizhi was about to ask what was wrong, but the class counselor appeared at the back door and called Wu Zhizhi away.

Though the Eastern Jin Dynasty was confined to a small territory, Jiankang City’s gates were tall and sturdy, with a winding moat below. The city walls were guarded by imposing soldiers. Beneath the gates, crowds of people bustled—pedestrians weaving through, carriages and horses streaming by—undoubtedly all attending the Langya King’s trade fair, a scene of prosperity and celebration.

After all, he had truly fallen from heaven to hell—a boy lodging at his uncle’s with no background, once useless, now enduring the predictable contempt that followed.