Chapter 33: There Must Be Something Seriously Wrong With You!

On March 30th, the Weifang warship successfully completed the evacuation mission, carrying 449 citizens of Huaxia from the port of Hodeidah and setting sail for Djibouti.

“With Baxi and the doctors on board, Baize will be all right,” Tong Wanxin said, patting Bi Fang on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“I heard Bian was injured too. How is he?” Bi Fang asked quietly, eyes fixed on the Weifang as it slowly faded into the distance.

“He’s fine—just took a bullet to the shoulder.”

“Come on then, let’s go with you to Aden. There are still foreign nationals who need our help to evacuate.”

People often believe that capitalists are inherently guilty, that capital seeks only profit, and that this pursuit inevitably leads them to undermine the rule of law and threaten the peace of ordinary people. But it was obvious that Cheng Yong was not cut from that cloth. As a newcomer, even his subordinates hadn’t figured out what their leader truly preferred.

In the past, it had always been Jiang Wan and Wei Mingxiang locked in open conflict, while he sat on the sidelines, watching tigers fight from atop the mountain. Now, as an outsider, she felt this pain so keenly—how much worse would it be for his parents if they learned the truth? The thought that he might have been forcibly taken by that notorious, hideous woman unleashed a bloodthirsty rage within him.

She was so young, and yet Li Xiangyi was already trying to bring her under his own wing—it was infuriating.

To care for Ji Zhichen’s delicate stomach, she had taken cooking classes every evening after work.

Cheng Zewu fell asleep to the deep, magnetic timbre of his father’s voice, a faint smile lingering on his lips as he drifted into slumber.

Qin Jiang reached for his phone to call Li Suyuan, only to realize he hadn’t saved the number. No matter—WeChat calls would do.

Fang Tingyi’s heart shattered on the spot. She’d rushed home in hopes of finding her sister, only to discover she had already left.

Bai Xinyu was visibly disappointed by Yun Yi’s words—after all, who would wish to see the secret realm they guarded fall into the hands of outsiders?

Fortunately, thanks to the influence she had built up in the Kingdom of Dali, she guessed the Emperor of Dayong would not dare act rashly against her father.

Inside the resettlement area, the scene was bustling. Lin Zhong ordered tents to be erected and oversaw the distribution of food and water.

“Damn!” Zhang Ruojun couldn’t help but curse as she looked at Liu Shishi and Yang Mi, both sprawled on the table side by side.

Although they had long planned to replace the idol of the Giant-Toothed Rabbit, everyone was busy with more pressing matters—even the construction of the perimeter wall had been repeatedly postponed. There was simply no time to painstakingly craft a new statue.

And now, having offered strategies and taken the initiative to seize Jintang City, he had, in the Crown Prince’s eyes, achieved merits that overshadowed his master.

With the staff all beginning to strike, the guests were visibly uneasy.

Out at sea, many hidden reefs lay submerged beneath the waves, their surfaces faintly glimmering with obscure metallic luster.

After a harrowing, life-and-death struggle, the army of Shu ultimately managed to repel Liu Jin’s treacherous assault, but paid a devastating price for their victory.

At this moment, even after sowing so many gamboge seeds, Ye Linyuan had only managed to occupy just over an acre of spirit fields.

Taking advantage of Mu Xichen’s distraction by the blue flames, the shadow slipped away in a single bound, vanishing without a trace.

The thought had barely formed in Zhuang Feng’s mind before he slapped himself; wasn’t that courting death? The Zhuang family had managed to keep these people hidden for ten years—why hand them over now?

After listening to Meng Qi, Ai Zhuofan thought his words made some sense. But remembering Meng Qi’s earlier threats, he still retained a healthy dose of skepticism.

Unconsciously, she found herself standing beside the broken-legged table. She reached out and gently brushed the dust from its surface.

Once Wan Feng left, “Spring” Grass began arranging for all the red wine to be shipped north to the capital. In truth, “Spring” Grass only had to utter a word—his portly figure made it clear Lu Ziqi would never let him tire himself out. Naturally, Lu Ziqi followed his instructions, took over the task, and set everything in motion.