Li Mu Yang held the snowball as though he were holding his own fate.
Of course, at that moment, the snowball truly did determine Li Mu Yang's future.
If Heart Buddha discovered that the snowball was the legendary artifact Heart of Weak Water, or if anyone else discovered its true identity—or rather, its hidden identity—then it would be a disaster for Li Mu Yang. Or, more accurately, it would be a catastrophe for the entire Divine Land.
By then, everyone would fight and scheme over it, trading honeyed words while plotting betrayal. For the sake of this tiny ball of flesh, a bloody storm would rise across the land of Shenzhou.
Li Mu Yang felt that his life was truly tragic. It was bad enough that his own identity had to remain hidden, but even the pet dog—or pet rabbit—he raised actually had to hide its identity as well. This was simply too much.
Heart Buddha still held out his hand toward Li Mu Yang, looking as though he would never stop until he achieved his goal.
In his eyes, the yellow-faced young man before him was nothing more than a stable boy, a lowly servant. There was a chasm between their identities and statuses. Even if he slapped Li Mu Yang to death, the Lu family would probably act as though nothing had happened.
It was only a lowly servant being beaten to death. What was there to make such a fuss about? In the backyards of the nobles in the imperial capital, which family had not buried several disobedient dog-slaves?
Yet Li Mu Yang had no intention of submitting.
No matter what, he could not hand the snowball over to Heart Buddha.
Heart Buddha's strength was formidable. Based on what Li Mu Yang knew of him, his cultivation