094 Acupuncture (Second Update)

“Not yet, there’s still one last stitch left!” Chen Anquan smiled lightly and said to Zhao Hai, “Old fellow, this final needle at Baihui will decide everything.”

With that, he pulled out a silver needle from his waist.

This silver needle was special—not only did it serve to sterilize, but it could also be coated with a medicinal liquid around its tip to assist in healing.

In ancient times, a silver needle dipped in poison was a covert weapon, used to assassinate silently.

“So thick!” Zhao Xuan exclaimed.

“He… he’s busy with work,” came the reply, and hearing this, Baobei’s eyes lowered slightly, the smile fading from his face.

Dì Lóng, on the other hand, had no such reservations and sat down to devour the food that had been prepared.

After days of reflection, he finally understood why there had been such persistent attachment to Chu Yan’er—not merely out of sympathy, but perhaps because she was always so gentle and compliant.

“And what about Yi Sen? Do you plan to betray him?” Zuo Yisen usually joked and laughed, but his heart was fragile. He had once been deeply wounded, a pain that tore him apart, and I truly don’t want to see him hurt again.

He had tasted it—the sensation of falling into hell. It wasn’t a shattering blow or something fleeting, but a pain that spread like poison.

Su Yingmei never imagined that at a time like this, Catherine would still be chatting with Yang Baichuan as if they were old friends, reminiscing about how they once loved and parted ways so freely. Such ease and grace—Su Yingmei wondered if she could ever possess that. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

Luo Tu cursed softly under his breath. From his belt, he drew out a strip of black metal wire, inserted it into the lock, pressed his ear close to the iron, and gently twisted the wire inside. Suddenly, the mechanism clicked open.

On the documents Meng Yu had thrown over, the first words Lu Haotian saw were precisely these. And it was these words that made Lu Haotian certain—this contract was his to claim.

The next morning, Ling Yang was awakened by the first light streaming through the window. Rubbing his aching temples, parched from alcohol, he grabbed the water cup beside him and drank half of it in one gulp before stepping out of the room, yawning and stretching lazily.

As more than a dozen machetes were drawn, a low, solemn aura suddenly and naturally enveloped the area.

“General Guan! General Zhang!” But before Guan Yu and Zhang Fei could advance even a few steps, a voice called out from behind. Guan Yu turned to see the messenger standing beside Jia Xu. It seemed Jia Xu had anticipated the tempers of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei and sent someone ahead.

After a day of turmoil, the two new recruits were exhausted, hungry, and cold. Even Yan Poyue, as strong as an ox, spoke with a trembling voice while reporting.

“You claim victory? But we shall see if you have the strength for it!” As the King of Yue finished speaking, he raised his staff, and a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the Tree Demon King with a crackling sound.

Li Hai stared at Yan Mingxiang. He knew little of Ye Feng’s past and was unaware of when Ye Feng had dropped out of school.

Though unsure of Xu Chun’s background, Wen Xu had witnessed Xu Chun’s strength firsthand. Even the bald tough guy bowed to Xu Chun, so Wen Xu firmly believed that those under Xu Qiang would be formidable.

“Then you won’t do anything about him?” The young man pinched Wang Henyue’s chest hard and laughed.

Wang Tian was speechless; he truly couldn’t tell. There was no way to argue—how could he rebut when he simply couldn’t see it?

“I.” Wu Meng also knew that worrying now was useless. Not just now—at any time, worry was futile. Calmness and composure were the keys to victory.

When I was utterly baffled, Zhu Kaihua cautiously asked the old man, “Old Zheng, do you mean to say the ending is already determined?”