At the crown of the Sacred Tree, fierce winds howled back and forth. The morning sun cast a patch of warmth upon the crystal-clear windows. Light passed through the panes and refracted inside, scattering brilliant patches of color throughout the room and making it exceptionally bright.
Wu Chu awoke from cultivation and sensed the magic power within him. With a thought, he casually waved out a flame. The fire swept forth on the wind, transforming into a flame tongue over three meters long.
After the flame dissipated, he casually beckoned again and summoned a mass of cloud vapor. Yet it was as thin and insubstantial as misty gauze, difficult to gather into a clump. Riding clouds and mist was clearly impossible.
The revolution had yet to succeed; comrades still had to strive!
Wu Chu sighed inwardly, circulated his magic power, and gave his body a slight shake, sending the dust on him flying away. Then a light breeze rose from the ground and swiftly swept the dust away.
The doors opened without wind. Wu Chu walked outside, stood on the corridor, and stretched lazily. Fat Dog A Qiu seemed to have heard the commotion and came out from beneath the main hall's eaves. It raised its head languidly to glance at him, barked once in greeting, then slowly lay down beside a flower bed and basked in the sun with a thoroughly indolent air.
Wu Chu no longer had the strength to complain about it. He did not know whether the ancestor of the dog race would someday be this fellow, but it had completely lost its wolfish nature and was becoming more and more like a dog.
"Brother A Chu, are you hungry?"
Hearing the sound, Little Moon Spirit came out of the kitchen. She held a kitchen knife