Chapter 9: Bridging the Chasm Between Existence and Excellence

"This matter was personally proposed by President Li. He hopes you will be the first editor-in-chief."

"Fudan needs its own 'Weiming Lake'."

Qi Lianshan spoke with absolute certainty.

In 1979, "Weiming Lake" held profound cultural symbolism.

The reasons behind this were multifaceted.

Since the New Culture Movement, Peking University had always held "academic freedom and inclusiveness" as its spiritual banner, with student publications like "New Youth" and "New Tide" serving as its pillars.

Meanwhile, Feng Zhuo intended to pass the position of clan leader to Yun Zhi after her marriage and before the ancestral rites. Due to Gong Chenjian's orders, the true nature of his identity had not been disclosed to Yun Zhi.

Seeing Xuanyuan Aotian's lecherous appearance, it was clear that his beauty was truly extraordinary, as evidenced by the reaction he provoked.

The more Wang Qiliang watched, the more his heart pounded. He knew President Li well; as a government official, he would never act as a shill for Tang Qiao. It seemed Tang Qiao truly possessed the means to heal others.

Yun Zhi had heard of the Yin Family Villa. In fact, she had once sent people to investigate it, but they had never been able to uncover any information.

With Tang Qiao's words, Wang Qiliang’s apology was successful. Both President Li and the Xiong family were extremely pleased.

"You're so young; it would be better to find a proper job and earn some money. Don't just come here to gamble on us all the time. Where would we even get the money to give you?" Ye Hongbin frowned and glared at Ye Zixu.

"I only believe in evidence," Mo Shuyuan replied coldly before turning to enter the bedroom to collect evidence from around Han Limin.

Ye Xue strolled outside and sat on a chair, followed by Nangong Xiaoyao, Nangong Qinsu, and Nangong Qinyue.

"What? You can't even produce this much, yet you want to buy me?" The Snow Fox raised his eyelids, and a cold, violent aura swept out with a 'bang'.

Zhang Xueli dared not give out the phone numbers of the other teachers to Xu Cheng-you and the others. Instead, he emphasized the severity of being expelled, all while waiting for Gao Peng to arrive.

Moreover, watching the seven of them, their level of subservience toward Young Master Jin was as if they were meeting their own boss.

The Dragon Emperor seemed to have foreseen the outcome from the beginning; he had no intention of interfering from start to finish.

Although Jin Tian possessed skin like bronze and bones like iron, the sword energy could pierce even thick steel plates, let alone human flesh. The sharp energy instantly punctured the skin of his palm like a needle, leaving a tiny hole of blood.

No matter how hard she tried, her chest would not fill out. Although she hated it, she truly felt the malice of time.

It was past ten o'clock at night, and a cold wind was blowing outside. The weather in New York was likely similar to Cambridge; once December arrived, the temperature plummeted, making one want to do nothing but curl up under a quilt.

She knew the super-bacteria were precious and were the result of her father's hard work, but being dragged into such inexplicable affairs felt far too dangerous.

Though polite on the surface, Su Zhenbang was secretly on guard. He had not expected that the discovery of a spirit crystal vein on his property would attract the attention of the Alchemist Guild. What was he to do?

However, when the hundredth-ranked person made an attack, a bolt of blood-red lightning shot out. Even with the protection of a god-tier spirit weapon, the man was reduced to ashes.

Perhaps due to the exhaustion of the day, Su Jin finally succumbed to sleep, her head tilting as she drifted off. When she woke up again, Chu Linyu was nowhere to be seen.

However, Chu Linyu had made up his mind to ignore Feng Jiaqi, so no matter what he said, Chu Linyu pretended not to hear a word.

Liu Junhao and Zhang Qian looked at each other in bewilderment. It seemed that in the nightly news broadcasts, those high-ranking leaders would pause for half a minute between sentences, weighing every word for fear of making a mistake. How had this old man become such a chatterbox?