" You're in the way. Move aside."
Ling Ye's bland tone, carrying a hint of you're taking up too much space, was the last straw, completely crushing Su Wanqing's tottering nerves. She sat on the carpet just ten centimeters from the "divine artifact" mantou, her rear still aching faintly. The turmoil that had only just been soothed by the Calming Tea erupted into raging waves once more!
Aggrieved! She was tremendously aggrieved!
She had nearly been scared to death by that thing! She had taken a fall! And in exchange, all she got was a "you're in the way"?
Su Wanqing forcibly suppressed the urge to pick up the half a mantou beside her and throw it at him (though she didn't dare touch it in the first place). Using both hands and feet, she climbed up from the carpet and practically crawled and rolled to the side, far away from the corner's shadow, which radiated an invisible "constant" pressure. She lowered her head, her chest heaving violently as she struggled to calm her roiling emotions.
Ling Ye seemed quite satisfied with her knowing when to yield. He no longer paid Su Wanqing any attention. Instead, his gaze swept around the luxurious living room, as though searching for something. In the end, his eyes settled on... the island counter in the open kitchen.
More precisely, on the smooth, empty marble countertop of the island.
"I'm hungry." Ling Ye once again announced his physiological need in a few concise words, as if the cup of Calming Tea he had just drunk had merely been an appetizer. He rose to his feet and walked barefoot toward the kitchen, his footsteps pattering.
Su Wanqing's heart rose into her throat again. What was this mighty one... going to do now? Surely he wasn't going to boil instant noodles in the Purple Clay Teapot again? Or... pick up the half a mantou in the corner and chew on it?
Ling Ye did not touch the Purple Clay Teapot, nor did he look toward the corner. He walked to the island counter and naturally pulled open an adjacent built-in cabinet. Inside were neatly arranged brand-new pots and pans, baking molds, and... several unopened bags of premium flour and baking ingredients.
Ling Ye's gaze lingered for a moment on the flour bags printed with foreign-language labels, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He extended two fingers and, with extreme distaste, pinched up a small amount of flour, bringing it to his nose to sniff.
"Tsk." He made no attempt to conceal his dissatisfaction. "The spiritual energy is thin, and the impurities are mixed... It'll do." His tone held the helplessness of making the best of a poor lot.
Then, under Su Wanqing's stunned gaze, Ling Ye casually tore open a bag of expensive organic stone-ground high-gluten flour! As though ripping open a packet of cheap potato chips! Without even looking at the instructions on the packaging, he simply poured most of the bag of snow-white flour onto the gleaming black marble island countertop in one lavish motion!
The flour piled up like snow, forming a small white hill.
Watching the costly flour being "wasted" like this, Su Wanqing's heart bled! But that wasn't even the most outrageous part!
Ling Ye then picked up a brand-new stainless-steel basin beside him (probably one she had bought to proof dough) and walked to the sink. He turned on the faucet, and clear tap water poured into the basin with a rush. Once again, he gave no thought whatsoever to the water-to-flour ratio and casually filled it... halfway?
Carrying the basin back to the island counter, Ling Ye looked at the flour mountain on the countertop and seemed to think for a second. Then, with utter casualness, he... splashed half a basin of water straight at the flour mountain?!
"Whoosh—!"
Water splashed everywhere!
The dry flour was instantly washed apart and soaked! Most of the water flowed directly across the countertop, spreading out and mixing with the flour into a chaotic, paste-like mess!
Su Wanqing: "!!!" She felt the soul of her culinary craft screaming! Was he... was he making mud?!
Ling Ye, however, acted as though he hadn't seen the disaster before him. He naturally tossed the empty basin aside and then... plunged both hands directly into the wet, sticky flour paste!
Knead!
He kneaded it with extreme violence and absolutely no technique!
Like a mischievous child frolicking in a mud pit! His hands stirred, pressed, and tugged through the wet paste! The sticky mixture of flour and water covered his arms and that ordinary old T-shirt!
Su Wanqing closed her eyes in pain. It was over! Her Italian-imported marble island counter worth hundreds of thousands! And that limited-edition silk carpet (the water had already flowed down)!
But just as she thought this dough-making disaster movie was about to reach its climax—
Ling Ye's kneading movements changed ever so slightly, taking on a certain indescribable rhythm...
Every press, fold, and pull of his fingers seemed to contain a trajectory that resonated with the breathing of heaven and earth! A wisp of Chaos Origin Qi, incredibly faint yet pure beyond description, seeped silently into every inch of the wet, soft dough as his hands kneaded it, like the most dexterous artisan at work!
"Zzz..."
A nearly inaudible sound rang out, as if life were stirring.
Under Ling Ye's seemingly brutal kneading, which actually conformed to the rhythm of the Great Dao, the originally wet, sticky, lifeless mass on the island counter seemed to have been infused with a soul! Its stickiness rapidly increased, while its structure grew dense and elastic! The moisture on the surface and the scattered flour were drawn together and fused by an invisible force! In barely ten seconds, a perfect lump of dough had taken shape in his hands—smooth, resilient, carrying the purest fragrance of wheat and faintly glowing with the warm luster of jade!
The surface of the dough was smooth as a mirror, without a single wrinkle or speck of dry flour, as if carved from the finest white jade. It lay quietly in Ling Ye's hands, radiating a restrained yet vigorous vitality!
Su Wanqing was dumbfounded once again! This... this kneading technique... was it magic?! What had happened to that disaster scene just now?
Ling Ye seemed fairly satisfied with his "work." He casually slapped the impossibly perfect lump of dough onto the center of the island counter, producing a soft smack. Then he straightened and began scanning the kitchen.
"Rolling pin." He stated his requirement tersely, as though searching for a handy tool.
Su Wanqing jolted, like a maid receiving an imperial edict, and hurried toward the kitchen-utensil cabinet beside her. She pulled open the door. Inside were neatly arranged rolling pins of various sizes and materials—jujube wood, beechwood, stainless steel, and even one made of silicone with a nonstick coating.
After hesitating for a moment, she chose, on the principle that the mighty one might prefer something natural, an African ebony rolling pin with the heaviest feel and most beautiful grain. She respectfully held it out. "Would... would this do?"
Ling Ye took the expensive ebony rolling pin and weighed it in his hand, then stroked its smooth wooden surface with his fingertip. Then, with extreme casualness, he... tossed the rolling pin back into the cabinet!
"Too light." He spoke with unconcealed disdain. "It's not handy."
Su Wanqing: "..." This was top-grade ebony she had paid a fortune for! Its density was extremely high!
"Then... how about trying this stainless-steel one? It's heavier?" Unwilling to give up, Su Wanqing picked up the heavy solid stainless-steel rolling pin.
Ling Ye accepted it and gave it a casual swing, stirring up a faint rush of air. Then he tossed it back as well.
"Too brittle." He curled his lip.
Su Wanqing was about to cry. How could a rolling pin be too brittle?! Was he rolling dough or forging iron?!
Just as she was preparing to recommend the silicone nonstick one (though it seemed even less likely to catch the mighty one's eye)—
Ling Ye's gaze naturally fell upon the shabby cloth bundle he had casually thrown into the corner of the kitchen, leaning against the cabinets.
Su Wanqing's heart lurched! An ominous premonition instantly seized her!
Sure enough!
Ling Ye walked over barefoot, his footsteps pattering, casually bent down, and reached into the shabby cloth bundle that seemed to connect to the abyss!
He rummaged around.
A few seconds later.
"Ffffft."
There was a faint sound, like a heavy object scraping against cloth.
From the cloth bundle, Ling Ye pulled out... a... thing?
The object was entirely a profound black, heavy to the extreme, as though it had gathered the deepest darkness from the moment the universe was born! It was only a foot long and as thick as an arm. Its surface was not smooth but covered in countless fine, naturally formed, twisted and winding patterns, profound and unfathomable! Those patterns faintly radiated a terrifying aura that suppressed the ages and bore the weight of heaven and earth! The instant it was exposed to the air, the surrounding light seemed to dim, while the floor beneath their feet sank downward ever so slightly!
It was precisely that... pitch-black short rod she had caught a fleeting glimpse of in the cloth bundle by the entrance last night, the one that had instantly frozen Su Wanqing's soul and caused the Dragon Tooth vanguard detection device to overload and melt down?!
Su Wanqing felt a chill shoot from her coccyx straight to the crown of her head! Her legs went weak, and she nearly dropped to her knees. The terrifying memory of her perception being crushed by its aura last night surged back like a tide! Her face turned deathly pale, her lips trembled, and she couldn't utter a word!
Ling Ye, meanwhile, held the Fragment of Buzhou Mountain—enough to crush galaxies and drive even Primordial Mighty Ones mad—as casually as a firewood stick. He weighed it in his hand, feeling its heavy mass, enough to make a planet subtly shift, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Hmm." His tone carried the ease of someone who had finally found a handy tool. "This... will do."
Then, under Su Wanqing's gaze, as though she had seen a ghost and was filled with utter terror and absurdity—
Ling Ye carried the black "short rod," which radiated an aura of world-destroying pressure, back to the island counter with a patter of bare feet. He naturally aimed one end of the "short rod" at the smooth, resilient lump of perfect dough glowing with a warm jade-like luster.
His wrist sank slightly, the movement as casual as flattening a lump of mud in a park.
The "rolling pin" came down.
Outside the window, in a dense forest atop a high slope roughly one kilometer from the villa—
Hawkeye's face remained pale, but after emergency treatment and powerful sedatives, he had barely recovered his ability to move. He lay at an excellent concealed observation point, staring through the eyepiece of a high-magnification sniper scope (equipped with psionic low-light enhancement and thermal imaging), firmly locking onto the villa's enormous floor-to-ceiling windows.
His mission had been downgraded from infiltration reconnaissance to pure long-distance observation. All forms of active detection were strictly prohibited! That was ironclad law!
The sniper scope's view was somewhat blurry, severely disrupted by the invisible energy field radiating from the villa itself, but he could barely make out portions of the living room and open kitchen.
He saw that the target (Ling Ye) seemed to be... busy in the kitchen?
He saw Su Wanqing hand over two rolling pins, both of which the target disdainfully tossed aside?
Then... the target walked toward the shabby cloth bundle in the corner?
Hawkeye's heart instantly rose to his throat! That bundle! The culprit behind last night's destroyed instrument!
He held his breath, his fingers trembling slightly from tension. What was the target going to take out?! The rod that had crushed his soul? Or that little basin that seemed to make all things return to silence?!
A few seconds later.
The target pulled... a... pitch-black short rod from the cloth bundle?!
Even across the distant space and severe interference, the instant the short rod was exposed to the air, the view through Hawkeye's scope twisted violently! An irresistible terror and sense of insignificance originating from the depths of his soul surged over him like an icy tide! His hand gripping the sniper rifle began to tremble uncontrollably! The nightmare-like memory from last night surfaced once more with perfect clarity!
The target was carrying that terrifying rod... toward the island counter? What was he going to do?! Launch an attack?! Destroy the villa?! Or—
Then, under Hawkeye's gaze, which was nearly suffocating from extreme shock—
He clearly saw the target casually use that black short rod radiating world-destroying pressure... to press down on a white object on the island counter?!
The movement... looked like he was... rolling dough?!
Hawkeye's brain completely crashed.
The sniper scope slipped weakly from before his eyes.
His entire body seemed to have had its bones pulled out. He collapsed into the cold mud, staring blankly at the gray sky. His mouth unconsciously repeated the same mutter over and over:
"Rolling pin... He's using that thing... as a rolling pin... Rolling pin... Rolling pin..."
Before you continue