Wisdom and Folly

So they continued.

The horror continued, the pain continued.

Zheng Fatty had never cared about such things. He only cared about "fun" and "happiness."

But the old man had sent Swallow to help, so he had no choice but to let Swallow help.

Because once you were dead, you couldn't be happy anymore.

He strode across the open ground, casually picking up corpse after corpse and tossing them into the cauldron with ease.

He was casual and natural, as if he were cooking, tossing a few pieces of pork into a pot.

Simply tossing in corpses was too boring.

So he started throwing them to the left, to the right, in spinning arcs, in high parabolas... He varied his throws in all sorts of ways, though of course they all ended up in the cauldron.

That cauldron... never seemed to fill.

The blood-red flames roared, and a suffocating stench permeated the air. Perhaps it was the smell of charred flesh, of blood and rot, or some other pungent odor, all mixed together in a sinister brew.

But when you sniffed carefully, the smell wasn't really there. It seemed to exist only in the imagination, in the fear.

The cultivators of the Feng and Chi branches stared at the great cauldron with terror and pleading in their eyes, pinning their hopes on that damned "Blood of Equilibrium" being refined at once. Then it could pull them out of the abyss of despair.

Even if their fellow disciples, blood relatives, and friends were the ones being boiled... just hurry up already!

Let this nightmarish moment pass as soon as possible!

Li Shou said nothing, and Fang Heling was silent too.

On a night like this, the sudden quiet felt excessive.

Swallow didn't like this kind of silence.

So she suddenly turned around