This was only about eight levels, already far beyond what you could call a poor performance. It was an absurd decline.
Liu Mengyan watched Lin Lu's retreating figure without saying anything. With a wave of her hand, she sent the bedding flying out the door, then circulated her cultivation art and drove the air in the room outside.
Yan Jingwei and Xia Jianlin had both drunk quite a bit. By the end, Xia Jianlin was already thoroughly drunk.
She could never return to Yan Jingwei's side, and Yueyue... was destined to have other half-siblings in the future.
She hadn't expected to see yet another red Ferrari today, one unlike the others. Luo Cheng was simply too rich.
"Hmph. But the few cultivators we have in the secular world are secretly colluding with the Alliance Organization. In their eyes, ordinary people's lives are no more than ants. Only their own futures matter. The lives and deaths of ordinary people in the secular world have nothing to do with them!" Old Yang's expression darkened as he spoke.
Zhang Peimeng only needed to perform about as well as Chen Wei had back then. And as it turned out, Zhang Peimeng's baton-passing technique and future potential were far superior to Chen Wei's. That was talent and ability for you. A man who had spent years running relays for the national team was no slouch.
"You just said you'd met a middle-aged man named Meng Lei?" Su Qingyang asked, furrowing his brow.
Chen Fan nodded, more or less understanding now. If he were put in charge of one of the Nine Provinces, he wouldn't turn away a friend who could offer help in all sorts of ways—especially when that friend had made it clear he wouldn't seize power, but would focus single-mindedly on growing his