Chapter 58 Since When Does a Martial Artist Get Drunk on Wine?

Hearing Xu Mu's words, Duan Hong was so shocked that he almost tumbled to the ground.

Was he actually willing to teach him the brewing technique?

Shouldn't such a secret method be kept from outsiders?

"Young Master Xu, are you serious?"

"How much silver do you make in a month?" Xu Mu asked.

"All things considered..."

Therefore, the final combined result was that the plate and the balloon hit the ground at the same time. In the second experiment, the experimenter punched a hole in the plate.

The Gentleman's Sword of the Fan family had a formidable reputation. It was said that when the sword was drawn, thirteen moves were unleashed in a single instant. Every move was different, and their speed was like shifting shadows, impossible to guard against. To this day, the Gentleman's Sword remained undefeated, and the current elderly head of the family even bore the title of Sword Saint.

Xu Zhiyuan finally wore a look of relief. After going through untold hardships to slay the old man in the black robe, his efforts had not been in vain.

Since he had served as a soldier for a few years in his past life and was also a firearms enthusiast, Su Xing had a fairly good understanding of weapon manufacturing. Moreover, blacksmiths were considered a low-tier profession on Douluo Continent and were extremely cheap to hire, so Su Xing prepared to seek out a blacksmith shop for cooperation, paying them to manufacture components for some ordinary firearms.

Qingque nodded, leading the way with a lantern, while Xu Baizhi followed behind, her heart filled with quiet misgivings.

She seemed no different from before, chatting and laughing with the other beastmen every day, devising all sorts of creative and delicious meals for the little ones.

The weather outside was far too cold, and daring not to hesitate, he hurried inside and told Qiqi to close the door.

Yet Hu Qi gritted his teeth. Even though cold sweat beaded on his forehead, he did not utter a single sound.

Yan Shiyi was hardly someone particular about food and clothing. Seeing Xiao Qian's cheeky, smiling expression, a fire kindled in her chest. She had thought they shared the same worldview, but their consumption habits were worlds apart. Before his career had even begun, Xiao Qian was already growing fastidious about what he ate and wore.

"If you manage to ascend to a divine position, you will naturally understand its wondrous utility." The president walked away without looking back.

Time seemed to drag on very slowly. In these lonely and desolate years, Ning Shixiu tasted the true flavor of waiting.

They had notified the members of the Heavenly Network right before setting out so they could gather evidence, and they had arrived quite punctually.

"Heh~" Duan Mo gave a light chuckle, his deep, pitch-black phoenix eyes reflecting Yuchi Qiu's visage in their depths.

"What kind of sister is that..." Duan Chengye muttered discontentedly in his heart. Uncle Han and his father were cousins several generations removed, yet by the time it reached Shaoyun's generation, she was still considered a sister...

In response, Qiu Yang did not care about Wu Mu's life or death at all. His gaze locked onto Ye Liang, whose face had turned slightly pale and who had suffered even heavier injuries. A wicked smile played at the corner of his lips, seemingly smug over his own "cleverness."

Feeling the approach of death once more, I closed my eyes tightly, sensing someone holding my waist alongside the loss of gravity. Opening my eyes, Li Xing's bloated face was right before me. What a pity; before dying, I couldn't gaze upon his beauty once again, but instead had to look at such a visage. I felt a deep sense of regret.

Li Gang's words made my face burn instantly. I hadn't expected Li Gang to bring up Pei Shaobei's violent behavior at a time like this. Thinking further of Li Gang's so-called red background, I couldn't help feeling a bit worried. Sooner or later, this matter would reach the Pei family, and goodness knows what kind of trouble it might stir up again.

Over the past two years or so, not only the relationship between Gu Muting and Niannian, but also that between Tang Boxuan and Gu Xiaoxiao, had grown exceptionally stable.

With the appearance of this figure, two more figures emerged from the toxic fog, both equally clad in a malevolent cyan hue, seeming as though they could merge seamlessly with the poisonous mist at any moment.

Yet her feet seemed nailed to the ground, unable to move. She watched the man gaze over through the hazy night, as if traversing through time, causing the two of their lives to intersect once again.