Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

The decaying organs regained their vitality, the stiff muscles and bones became flexible, the cloudy vision suddenly became clear, and even the few strands of white hair that had grown at the temples seemed to quietly turn black.

A long-lost sense of passion and power, reminiscent of his prime, surged through his body!

"Ugh..."

Ying Zheng couldn't help but let out a comfortable groan, his tightly closed eyes suddenly snapping open, radiating a sharp light, like a sleeping dragon awakening!

He clenched his fists instinctively, feeling the surging power that filled his entire body and was about to burst forth. His face was filled with unbelievable ecstasy and shock.

He suddenly stood up, turned to look at Qin Chuan, his eyes burning with a flame even more intense than when he was young—a flame of renewed control over life, time, and infinite possibilities!

"Good! Good! Good!"

Ying Zheng exclaimed "Good!" three times in succession, his voice booming like a bell, causing the candlelight in the warm pavilion to sway gracefully.

He patted Qin Chuan's shoulder forcefully, his voice filled with heroic spirit:

"With Brother Chuan here, what worries do we have about not unifying the world?! I will personally witness the Black Dragon Banner of Great Qin being planted in every corner of that map! Come, drink this cup to the brim!"

The two brothers looked at each other and laughed, turning all their worries into laughter.

The wine glasses clinked again, producing a clear, resonant sound that stirred the same burning ambition.

The private banquet ended happily.

Qin Chuan walked alone on the quiet street back to his mansion under the moonlight.

The night breeze was slightly cool, dispelling some of the effects of the alcohol.

A dark figure, like a bat blending into the night, landed silently a few steps behind him and knelt on one knee.

He was a spy from the Bad People's Bureau in charge of intelligence, and he lowered his voice considerably:

"Sword Saint Gai Nie recently encountered Jing Tianming and his family of three in the West Market. Gai Nie spoke with them for a while, and his expression was strange, as if... as if he sensed something. I deduce that Gai Nie may have already discovered Jing Tianming's true identity."

Qin Chuan did not stop walking, but nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the deep night sky, as if piercing through layers of clouds and mist to see the thread that was pulling him from the shadows.

"Jing Tianming... Gai Nie..."

He muttered to himself, then said calmly:

"No need to worry about it. Fate is like a woven tapestry, each with its own course. Just go with the flow."

The shadowy figure obeyed the order and silently disappeared back into the darkness, as if it had never existed.

Qin Chuan's residence was just ahead.

Pushing open the gate, one finds a deep courtyard, bathed in moonlight that spills like quicksilver across the ground.

Unexpectedly, he saw a familiar figure walking in through the side door, carrying a faint fragrance of herbs; it was Duanmu Rong.

The lights in the mansion seemed to dim a little, and the servants and women quietly disappeared, leaving this peaceful space to the two who had been separated for so long.

Gone are the hustle and bustle of the streets, gone is the solemnity of the palace. In this home, bathed only in moonlight and with each other in their own space, the longing, worry, and admiration that have accumulated over the years...

All the emotions suppressed by reason and duty, like a flood unleashed, could no longer be contained.

Duanmu Rong stopped and turned around.

The moonlight shone on her beautiful face, and her eyes, which were always calm as water, were now filled with glistening tears, like a lake filled with stars.

She looked at him and walked closer step by step, each step feeling like it was touching the strings of their hearts.

“Chuan…” she finally called his name, no longer the distant “Your Majesty,” her voice trembling with resolute determination, “Is the wind and sand of the grassland cold? Have the swords and spears on the battlefield… hurt you? These years… I…”

She choked up, unable to say anything more, but simply raised her face and gazed at him bravely and directly with her tearful eyes, which were filled with all the unspoken emotions.

That gaze was more powerful than any words, instantly shattering all of Qin Chuan's restraint.

He suddenly reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace.

He was surrounded by her warm, soft body, and the familiar herbal fragrance mixed with her unique cool aura instantly ignited his long-suppressed passion.

"Silly girl..."

He sighed softly, his burning lips already falling to cover her cool, tear-stained softness.

This kiss, rough with the dust of battle, steeped in the weight of life and death, and imbued with the deep longing accumulated over countless days and nights, was so intense it could melt away all ice.

Duanmu Rong let out a soft moan, her body stiffening at first, then completely softening, her arms tightly encircling his neck, responding awkwardly yet passionately.

All restraint and all concerns vanished in that moment. Passion, like a wildfire, instantly devoured the dam of reason.

The moonlight was silent. Qin Chuan swept the light yet burning hot body in his arms and strode into the inner room.

The door closed behind him, shutting out the world and leaving only the room filled with enchanting spring colors and the pent-up emotions, like a volcano, finally being released.

The time of separation was instantly shortened, and years of longing and waiting finally came to fruition on this night, transforming into a passionate and unforgettable love.

Chapter 67 Clues to the Rebellion Against Qin, Xiaomeng Emerges from the Mountain

The wheels of the empire rolled over the spines of the Xiongnu, and highways and canals stretched across the territory like blood vessels. The markets of Xianyang became increasingly bustling, and the ears of millet in the fields were heavy with grain, bending their backs.

However, beneath this seemingly peaceful facade, the undercurrents never truly subsided.

A chase is underway on a desolate path far from Xianyang.

Elder Mu Xuzi of the Human Sect had disheveled hair and beard, and his Daoist robe was tattered. He was tightly protecting an ancient wooden box in his arms and was surrounded by four other disciples of the Human Sect.

With sword energy crisscrossing and each move ruthless, Mu Xuzi was struggling to defend himself, and several wounds had already been inflicted on his body. It seemed that he was about to be defeated.

"Uncle-Master Mu Xuzi, hand over the sect leader's secret treasure, and out of consideration for our fellow disciples, we might spare your life!"

The leading disciple shouted sharply, and the attack intensified.

A flicker of despair and resentment flashed in Mu Xuzi's eyes:

"Xiaoyaozi has acted perversely, colluding with the traitorous Mohists to plunge our Human Sect into utter ruin! You are all stubbornly clinging to your delusions and will ultimately reap the bitter fruits of your actions!"

He tried his best to block, but his breathing was already disordered.

Just as Mu Xuzi was about to have his chest pierced by a sharp sword aura, the world suddenly changed!

Time seemed to be gripped and frozen by an invisible hand.

The wind stopped, the trees were still, and the chirping of insects ceased.

An indescribable, cold, and vast power enveloped the area within a radius of several dozen feet.

The four menacing disciples of the Human Sect, their ferocious expressions, murderous intent in their eyes, and the sword light they wielded, froze instantly, like flies trapped in amber.

Their colors faded visibly, as if an invisible paintbrush had erased the hues of life, leaving only a deathly gray.

Mu Xuzi's pupils constricted sharply, and his heart almost stopped beating!

This supreme martial art, which is renowned throughout Taoism, can only be used by the head of the Heavenly Sect or someone who has received its true teachings!

He looked sharply in the direction of the source of the power, and saw a blurry, cold, moon-like figure standing quietly deep in the forest mist, its clothes fluttering without wind, exuding a suffocating pressure.

Master Xiaomeng, who had been in seclusion for many years and then took over the Heavenly Sect with swift and decisive measures, was hailed as a once-in-a-century genius!

Mu Xuzi understood instantly.

He struggled to speak, but his throat tightened with horror.

The aloof figure neither appeared nor uttered a word.

With a gentle lift of her hand, the wooden box in Mu Xuzi's arms seemed to be drawn by invisible threads, steadily flying into the forest mist and landing in the figure's hand.

Xiaomeng looked down at the wooden box in her hand, her fingertips brushing over the special restriction patterns belonging to Xiaoyaozi.

The clear, cold voice, like shattered jade striking ice, carried a subtle warmth, echoing softly in the frozen world, yet clearly reaching Mu Xuzi's ears:

"This item... would be a perfect gift for my brother after so many years apart."

As soon as he finished speaking, the terrifying pressure that had enveloped the world receded like a tide.

The wind began to blow again, the leaves rustled, and the insects chirped once more.

The four disciples of the Human Sect, whose life force had been stripped away by the "loss of color in the world," collapsed silently to the ground like clay sculptures with their bones removed, without uttering a sound.

Xiaomeng never appeared on screen, nor did she say a single word to Mu Xuzi.

Having obtained the wooden box, she had achieved her goal. Her figure vanished silently, like moonlight merging into the mist, leaving only the survivor Mu Xuzi, panting heavily, still shaken but also overwhelmed with the excitement of escaping death.

He knew he had made the right choice!

With Chuan Jun here, Xiaoyaozi's schemes are destined to fail!

Several days later, at Qin Chuan's residence.

A female disciple, dressed in the iconic moon-white Taoist robe of the Heavenly Sect and possessing a cool and aloof demeanor, handed over a jade slip engraved with the character "Dream" under the scrutinizing gazes of Chi Lian, Yan Fei, and others.

"By order of Master Xiaomeng, the sect leader, we request that Your Excellency come forward for a meeting."

Yan Lingji leaned against the doorframe, a playful, cold smile curving her red lips:

"Ha, what a grand air. Besides His Majesty, who else in Xianyang can command my husband's personal presence? Does your new sect leader have more influence than the heavens?"

Yan Fei's eyes darted around, scrutinizing her; Xue Nu frowned slightly. She had no connection with the Heavenly Sect, but she had a feeling that the new sect leader was acting rather unusually.

Qin Chuan took the jade slip, his fingertips tracing the elegant engravings on it, a gentle smile appearing on his face, as if recalling some long-ago amusing incident.

He waved his hand and said to the calm-looking female disciple of the Heavenly Sect, "Lead the way."

"Husband!" Yan Lingji said with some dissatisfaction.

"It's alright." Qin Chuan stood up, his smile unchanged. "I'm going to meet a... mischievous little girl."

The female disciple led Qin Chuan out of the city and to a secluded valley.

The valley was shrouded in mist, warm and humid, with a faint smell of sulfur in the air.

A natural hot spring is cleverly incorporated into a stone-built bath, surrounded by light gauze curtains that sway gently in the breeze.

Through the hazy gauze curtain, a graceful figure could be vaguely seen immersed in the warm spring water, her snow-white hair spread across the surface, outlining breathtaking curves.

Qin Chuan stood outside the gauze curtain, his expression calm, but his gaze deepened.

Inside the gauze curtains, a clear, melodious voice, tinged with languor and playfulness, broke the tranquility of the hot spring:

"How can the mighty Chuan Jun of the Great Qin Empire, who swept across the grasslands and made all nations bow down, be like a worldly man, bound by the distinction between men and women?"

Upon hearing this, Qin Chuan chuckled, a smile tinged with indulgence and reminiscence:

"After many years, the little girl has not only grown up, but has also become more and more mischievous."