Chapter 39: The White Rabbit Creamy Candy in the Palm

Jiang Jingming said nothing, merely lowering his head to continue tending to her wound.

The injury on her arm had already been dressed.

The corners of Sang Yu's eyes were red.

How could it not hurt? When the alcohol touched her skin for disinfection, the pain went straight to her nerves.

Next, Jiang Jingming picked up a pair of scissors and cut away the fabric on her leg, exposing the woman's slender, graceful, fair, and delicate calf.

The scar on her knee, stained with a trace of blood, looked particularly striking.

Robin no longer used the term teacher to address him, because before leaving, Lei Fa's words had effectively expelled her from the Divine Punishment, meaning she no longer needed to maintain the guise of Lei Fa's student.

The Eight Kings noticed nothing amiss and were still busy introducing the shops along the street to Tu'er, recommending the local specialties.

Supporting the medical pod, Bai Zhongqi could already see Han Jiasue's legs growing bit by bit amidst a glue-like liquid, a sight that was almost frightening.

"Garp, you're here." Deep within the cell, Roger sat upon the cold iron bed, greeting Garp.

"It's not that exaggerated. I've heard that Braille is very approachable, so if he is willing to teach me, that would be the best possible outcome," Arnold replied.

Longchang Casino was deserted now, left with only scattered debris and overturned tables and chairs, looking exceptionally desolate.

"How is it that Arnold didn't kill a single person!" one of the clansmen complained indignantly, clearly believing that Arnold was one of their own kin.

At that very moment, the sound of clattering hooves echoed from the street corner. People turned to look, only to see dozens of carriages slowly approaching, laden with heavy, massive crates.

No matter what, he had to witness Liu Su'an's evening live broadcast with his own eyes; only then could the immense doubts lingering in his heart be dispelled.

Eastern Krick publicly stated at the assembly that he hoped the factions voting against the policy would offer more constructive feedback so that he could humbly improve it or simply scrap it.

"Zizhong! Gather your focus and absorb the power of the Soul-Cleansing Dew to the utmost!" Liu Zizhong's complexion was somewhat flushed at the moment. The energy of the Soul-Cleansing Dew entered his soul, continuously washing over and scouring it. With each wave of cleansing, a ripple radiated outward.

He Chenguang was momentarily stunned; he hadn't expected Liu Mang to ask him directly how he intended to exact punishment. Based on past experience, whenever such incidents occurred, Liu Mang would merely nod and figure out a method on his own.

"Mmm..." She opened her mouth, only to let out an exclamation that made even her own ears burn with embarrassment. Mu Lianzhi bit down hard on her lips, struggling to keep herself from making any further sound.

Her infatuation back then had simply been a way to keep herself occupied, an escape from returning home to endless arguments and flying objects, until she could no longer bear it and fled out the door.

Leng Ruoxin leaped out from the dust, exhaled lightly, and ran over to the referee and Yu Feng, asking repeatedly, "Senior Brother, Xin'er didn't hurt you, did she?"

Sibi Yi's gaze remained fixed on the wall. It sounded almost like he was talking to himself, yet he was directing the question at Mu Lianzhi.

"What? Baili Zihua has been captured?" Yang Ying stood up abruptly from the armchair, staring in disbelief at the middle-aged man.

When Wang Xuebing removed his blindfold, he only knew he was standing in the center of a grand hall, with people flanking him on both sides.

"That must have been a call from your second aunt. Answer it. I gave her your number," Ling Yunshan said calmly, looking at Leng Jianchen.

Suddenly, right at that moment, the Red Turban leader pinned to the ground by the experimental subject saw that Liu Mang's gun was no longer aimed at him and realized this was his chance. He let out a loud shout.

Like a heartless wanderer in the mortal realm, or a romantic prodigal by the Qinhuai River, countless grand ambitions and hegemony were slowly worn away and consumed in that tender warmth and decadent luxury.

Her delicate finger brushed against her icy-cold fingertips, sending a shudder through her entire body. No matter how hard she tried, she could not pry them apart. In the end, she had to beg Mu Youchen for help to forcefully pry those fingers open.

Xiuzhen and her mother-in-law watched him talk, both thinking to themselves: *You're nothing but a heavy opium addict, and you talk about fighting the Japanese? The Japanese would be doing us a favor if they killed you...* Yet neither of them spoke the words lingering on their lips.