Hidden identities of the AI Heiress - Chapter 963: Qiao Yun: Are You Very Angry?

The six prefectures of Zhongbo were offered to foreign enemies on a silver platter, and Shen Zechuan was taken into custody in the capital, reduced to a drowning dog—loathed and condemned by all.Xiao Chiye followed the scent of the furor and made his way over. But instead of setting others on him, he kicked Shen Zechuan with his very own leg, rendering the latter an invalid. Who would expect this invalid to turn around and bite him in a counterattack until he was all drenched in blood?That was the start of an epic feud between both men who tore at each other every time they come face-to-face with one another.“Fate wants to bind me here for life, but this is not the path I choose. The yellow dust submerged my brothers deep under. I have no wish to bow in submission to an illusory fate. The imperial edict can’t save my troops, and the imperial court can’t fill the stomachs of my mounts. I’m no longer willing to lay down my life for this purpose. I want to surmount that mountain. I am going to fight for myself.”Note: A ‘drowning dog’ is someone who is down and out, having lost favor or power.

Betrayed by the kingdom he bled for. Executed by the brother he once protected. Daemon died a war hero—branded a monster.But death isn’t the end. Not for him.Reborn on the day of his cursed birth, under the same blood-drenched eclipse, Daemon remembers everything: the lies, the poison, the crown soaked in his mother’s blood. This time, he won’t beg. He won’t protect.He’ll burn the empire from the inside out.His twin brother Gabriel—the golden child, the “righteous” king—stole everything. So Daemon will take it all back, piece by piece.The nobles who cheered at his execution? Dead.The soldiers who held him down? Ash.The kingdom that worshipped a fraud? Buried under screams.This isn’t about justice. This is about revenge, and Daemon’s not stopping until his brother’s skin hangs from the palace gates.The empire made a monster.Now it gets to meet him.

Do not underestimate the act of tilling the soil. The practice of farming holds the power to command the clouds and dictate the rainfall with a mere flick of the wrist. Similarly, never undervalue the humble farmer, who might draw the gaze of stunning women, and vie for the affections of fluttering butterflies.A stunning journalist makes for a worthy companion, and even an aloof, imperious law enforcement officer could be brought to plead for mercy. A tutor? Allow me to provide additional instruction! I may appear as a regular individual, but through a stroke of fortune, I have embarked on a captivating journey, dancing amidst the wind and the clouds!

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”