Volume One, Chapter 40: Feng Yizhou Smells Like Chives

"Injured on someone's behalf only to be despised, my arm in a cast renders me helpless; perhaps it's best to let me fend for myself."
Just as the great philosopher, the father of all sentient thought; so too is this classic, the progenitor of sages, scholars, students, and all those who seek truth.
Qinglang was inwardly tense; his buff would only last a single round, and if the opponent continued to fight, his meager reserves would hardly suffice. However, the adversary's composure had collapsed, fearing his own score would be even more humiliating. Qinglang finally breathed a sigh of relief as both exited the arena in succession.
Shen Huixian drew in a sharp breath, his willpower unable to extend, not even daring to gaze directly for long.
Someone cried out in shock, and more were so stunned their eyes nearly fell out; the scene before them was utterly unexpected.
There are things in this world we cannot comprehend, but nothing without order; without order, it cannot be called truth.
The Tathagata bestowed compassion, pitying all beings, and thus resonated with the sound of the tides, announcing to those at the Dharma assembly: I often say, the mind that perceives external things is vested in the material world, guided by the heart. What is perceived and conceived of the myriad forms of the world is merely the manifestation of the mind itself.
Above sat a jade plate, upon which rested a golden elixir, radiating a rich aroma. Under the sunlight, it appeared even more lustrous and smooth, its extraordinary quality immediately apparent.
The players’ performances were nearing their end, and the ball was about to conclude. Liu Qi had been covertly searching for Li Xing’s figure, but never discovered his hiding place. As Fang Qiang and Wu Guangsheng finally took the stage for their closing song, she quietly stepped down and left the hall.
Observing the hesitant expressions, none dared suggest going to assist Daoist Lu Zhu or Tu Shan Feng. Feilian sneered inwardly.
"Looks like your shop has no grain," the envoy said, hands clasped behind his back, his sharp eyes scrutinizing every corner.
Given Xiao Yuchen’s status, regardless of their previous relationship, he should have kept his distance.
Yesterday’s excitement led to binge-watching until three in the morning; now, someone is coming and going early—what could they be up to?
Though she couldn't see Second Uncle, Second Aunt refused to give up, gripping the door latch and shouting loudly, "If you have guts, don’t come out today; starve yourself!" With that, she dragged over a stool, sitting in front of the door, broom in hand, as if awaiting his emergence.
Mr. Zhou hurriedly raised his bid, inwardly cursing Zheng Mingbo, his fellow member of the Collectors’ Association.
Ning Ran had been thoroughly tormented, every bone in her body feeling as if it had been disassembled and reassembled, her skin mottled with marks.
"Your Highness, there is no news from General He," Gu Zhi whispered from the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on the quiet camp.
Such matters being exposed face to face were somewhat awkward; originally, Li Biao had intended to shift the blame onto Yue Yang, but was unexpectedly betrayed by him first.
"What are you doing here?" asked another man, approaching. He tilted his head curiously, trying to discern what the other had been watching, but predictably saw nothing.
After Feng Zhiyuan spoke, silence fell over the group. How should one describe it? This battle was suffocating, little more than sacrificing lives to fill the ranks.
Following the beam of light, I peered into the car. What I saw startled me—there was no one inside, not a soul to be found.