Ji Jue sneezed again.
He looked up at the screen in puzzlement. The room was twenty-four degrees; he felt neither cold nor hot. "Isis, do you think I've caught a cold?"
"Sir, are you conscious?"
The Creation Spirit coldly retorted amid her endless work, "A Chosen One of the Transcendent Rank, catching a cold? How did those two terms even become associated? I had no idea you possessed such profound literary talent."
"These past two days have been strange. I keep sneezing. Could someone be talking about me?"
"Has it occurred to you," the Creation Spirit's voice grew even colder, "that this might be the resentment of some pitiful slave whose workload keeps skyrocketing?"
"Impossible!"
Ji Jue waved his hand decisively and waited for Isis to ask why. Instead, she refused to take the bait and cut off his chance to explain. "I don't want to know why."
Ji Jue immediately laughed, utterly unconcerned. "Because hasn't your workload always been like this?"
"So, as I said, I don't want to know."
A trace of numbness emerged in the Creation Spirit's voice, as though she had no choice but to say it. "Please die sooner, sir."
"I will, but not today."
Ji Jue leaned back in his chair, lowered his gaze, and glanced at the night outside the window. Looking down from the mountain heights, the scattered lights of Luo Island shimmered in the darkness. Far out over the ocean, hazy lights glowed in the distance.
It was another sea of stars.
The Seven Cities had now swept away their former decline and decay, glittering in the night. More lights rose from the darkness, illuminating all the gloom. "So beautiful."
Ji Jue murmured softly, deeply satisfied.
Sensing the excitement and joy coming from Red Firmament, the Celestial Origin Order manifested from