Widow Sun's Intentions

Shanpao was stirred by a few words from Wanshun, awakening both his competitive spirit and a surge of hot-blooded ambition. He had always wanted to make money, but now he yearned to accomplish something great. He was taking advantage of this current wave to clean up and turn over a new leaf, and since he had already started, he didn’t mind doing more.

He pulled Wanshun aside and spent the entire day discussing future plans. He summoned two subordinates to sit nearby and take notes; every word Wanshun uttered, they recorded, ensuring nothing was missed.

Wanshun found it amusing, but he also saw through Shanpao’s nature.

Meanwhile, the Death Eaters, armed with information from Professor Snape, were led by Voldemort himself to ambush the members of the Order of the Phoenix along their inevitable path—once again, thanks to Snape’s intelligence—in an attempt to capture them all in one fell swoop.

As close confidants to Madam Tea, Li Yi and his companions understood that for these two, it was nearly impossible—at least, Madam Tea could never have an official title. Even Lingyin, that girl… though it’s a little embarrassing for me to say, she’s utterly devoted and absolutely obedient—but honestly, the way she expresses affection is always sharp as a blade…

Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom nodded vigorously; Neville, timid as ever, swallowed hard.

Taking a few steps back, Johnson’s foot reached the edge of the five-tiered platform. With a wild roar, he stomped down hard, the explosive impact driving his leg deep into the solid stone floor of the dueling stage, finally halting his backward slide.

Under the candlelight, Zijuan watched Dayu’s melancholy expression and sighed inwardly: The young lady is trying to comfort herself, but how could things ever be the same?

Countless red-robed devotees, busy with their sacrifices and resistance, were inspired one sunny morning.

Phoenix Island lay east of Yangzhou city, on the Grand Canal—a branch called Phoenix River split off, giving the island its name.

A golden light, enough for dozens to encircle, descended from the moon, linking it to the earth as if tying the two together.

General Lou’s eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude. Truly: “No gate for honest counsel until meeting a wise lord, tears flow from a thousand emotions, loyal hearts are soft, ministers rejoice and weep.” General Lou declared, “For Tianzhang to have such an enlightened prince is a blessing for all our people.”

In the other world, strength reigns supreme; human rights are never discussed. You wish to save them, but it’s always mere palliative—every corner of the world hides darkness beyond your reach.

Suddenly, a long blade appeared in his hand, stained with blood, bearing the exclusive dark red of Shadow Assault.

A lavishly adorned carriage sped along the great avenue leading straight to the imperial capital; the road was broad, yet crowded. Fortunately, the coachman’s skill prevented any mishap.

Notably, a viewer named “Wounded Love Without Constancy” showered gifts—yachts, rockets, sports cars—in an ever-changing display, each time with a different amount.

Yanran sat at her dressing table, dismissive, yet gazed at her reflection: “What nonsense! If you want someone to give it to you, just say so—why ask about injuries?”

Ye Fan, battered by A Lu’s words, was both exasperated and amused. She never left him any room in her remarks.

It was clear that Du Gu Xinlan possessed the most formidable, heaven-defying constitution, for she was always with Du Gu Xuanxuan, yet her strength kept growing, striking fear into all who witnessed it.

Han Yuyun brought Fatty a cup of tea, then tucked a mischievous strand of hair behind her ear and spoke gently.

The middle-aged security guard, upon hearing this, silently switched off his radio, crouched down, lit a cigarette, and smoked with his head bowed, occasionally wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

After her words, Jiang Beibei’s snake-like face twisted into a strange smile. She slowly placed one hand on the wooden carved railing and then gradually sat down.

Mo Jingyuan’s lips curled, but the gloom in his eyes made Director Dai shudder and sink back into his chair, ignoring the startled looks of the others around the meeting table.