"Crackle~"
His fingertips rubbed against the collar, pressing out a scorched smell.
"If you roast it any longer, it'll burn. I don't care for this treasure robe. Give it to me—I'll alter it and save it for my disciple to wear."
"Why is the weather so damp and stifling today? Winter should be dry and cold. It shouldn't be like this, should it?"
Wu Lingxu released his fingers and rolled his neck. As his collar rubbed against the skin of his neck, it brought the discomfort of laundry washed on a rainy day and left without sunlight, forced to dry slowly in the shade. Even if he stimulated his qi and blood to steam it all dry, the dampness would cling to it again before long. It was far too unusual.
"Is there going to be a heavy rain?" Fei Taiyu looked up at the sky, his gaze piercing through the dome overhead. A chess piece dropped from between his fingers. "Once a person has lived long enough, they will always encounter some unusual weather..."
Thick clouds gathered in the distance, and now and then, two streaks of white light flickered within their black-gray depths.
"Crackle, crackle..."
One after another, flesh pellets from Lord Net's remains rolled along the blood grooves, bouncing without end. The tiny crimson pills rolled to the bottom and melted, clinging to Ghost Mother like viscous blood and seeping inside.
Within Ghost Mother's cave, red light blurred—one solid and one hollow, one bright and one dim, one clear and one muddled...
Two palms held aloft a treasure vase, turning over one another like lotus leaves. Reflected upon the stone walls, Ghost Mother's slender, fair, beautiful arms entwined like gray snakes before abruptly overlapping.
Pai Xiao Xing's body at the "death" position slowly shifted above the "life"