Wang Tie Zhu's Sense of Crisis

Half a month later, Corpse Burning Room No. 7.

"Thank you for your trouble, Seventh Master. Seventh Master, I'll take my leave."

Niu Chengan bowed respectfully and hurried away with his subordinates. His form of address had been upgraded to the utmost respect—"Master." He no longer even dared call him Master Hua.

After they left, they had left Qin He a corpse: a huge centipede, one zhang long and as wide as a door plank. Its face was still blurry, but it was beginning to take on the shape of a human face, and six wings sprouted from its back.

It was packed inside a large chest, filled with plenty of ice.

"That centipede is huge!" Ma Fei exclaimed.

"Peak Wheel Sea Realm, half a step into the Dao Palace Realm. Not bad, not bad." Qin He nodded, a satisfied look appearing on his face.

Wei Wu's black cauldron was finally bringing in some returns. After being patched and repaired for so long, it truly had not been easy.

"Master, the corpse is good, but Wei Wu was a little too reckless. The Centipede Commander was a trusted confidant under the Bloodwing Bat King, and I heard they were even related. Wei Wu made such a grand show of delivering the corpse here, as if he were afraid the Bloodwing Bat King wouldn't notice us. If he wanted to send it, he should have done so quietly in the dead of night."

Wang Tie Zhu picked faults even in an egg. As he spoke, there was not much suspicion on his face—rather, there was more jealousy.

He could not help being jealous.

Wei Wu was impressive now. He had only entered the palace for a little over half a month, yet he had built a temple and sent over corpses.