Qin Fen was furious and miserable. That last moment had hit the mark again, and he had been instantly sent back once more. Before Cupid could even see him, he whooshed back to Chamonix. Chef Qin sprawled on the floor, feeling awful all over. This was truly not fit for a human being. Thinking about his two bizarre trips, he had no clue what was going on. Enduring the churning in his stomach, he began replaying everything in his mind.
He wanted to find the root of it all.
In that brief instant, nothing major in the Mortal Realm had been affected. Or rather, what was supposed to happen still happened; nothing could be changed. That was the inertia of history. For example, Female Hooligan came out of the restroom again, still completely bewildered.
For another example, Lan Yibing, who had just run out of the forest and was starving beyond endurance, had planned to turn himself in. He wanted to find the government; at the very least, he could get a meal. But the moment he reached the entrance of the police station, he fucking backed away again.
He had been just about to successfully step through the police station doors, but he fell just that tiny bit short.
"I'm so tired, so dizzy, I'm going to die!" Lan Yibing looked at the entrance in agony.
After carefully reviewing and sorting through both experiences, Qin Fen found one unusual common point.
Slowly sitting down in the corridor, Big Chef rubbed his temples. His body was already becoming extremely fatigued, and the strength within him was rapidly draining away.
"This is exhausting. What the fuck is going on? Could it be that I top your lung?" Qin Fen's grief-stricken voice rang through the hotel corridor.
And just as he shouted