888 Lottery Draw, Breaking into Zhu Zhuqing's Bathroom

"Crack—"

The White Tiger Body Barrier was pierced through in an instant, as if it were made of paper.

The sound of the barrier shattering was sharp and piercing, its fragments turning into specks of white light and fading away.

"Damn it!"

Dai Mubai was utterly shocked, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

"White Tiger Fierce Light Wave!"

A condensed white tiger-shaped beam burst from his mouth, roaring as it shot toward the Seven-Colored Light Sword.

But the beam was pierced through by a single strike.

The sword continued flying toward him without slowing in the slightest.

"White Tiger Vajra Transformation!"

Dai Mubai gritted his teeth. His third purple Soul Ring instantly enveloped him, black tiger stripes appearing across his skin as his muscles swelled. His attack, defense, and strength doubled in an instant.

The White Tiger Body Barrier expanded again, more than twice as thick as before.

Yet it was still shattered by a single strike.

The Seven-Colored Light Sword was like a red-hot iron needle piercing ice.

The barrier could not stop it for even a moment.

"Pfft—"

Dai Mubai twisted aside with all his strength.

The Seven-Colored Light Sword grazed past his chest, piercing through the flesh of his arm and spraying a cloud of crimson blood mist.

A tidal wave of agony washed over him, and he let out a shrill scream.

"Thud..."

He crashed heavily onto the ground.

Curling up as he clutched his bleeding arm,

his face turned pale as paper, veins bulging across his forehead.

Blood seeped through his fingers,

forming a small dark-red pool on the floor.

"Th-That strong?"

Tang San stood to one side, his expression grave.

In Nuoding City, he had been unbeatable among his peers.

But the scene before him completely overturned everything he knew.

That blond-haired man was already a Soul Elder above level thirty.

He had unleashed three soul skills in succession, only for the drunkard to crush them all with a casual sword strike.

Tang San felt that without using hidden weapons, he absolutely could not defeat this drunkard.

Xiao Wu's rosy lips parted slightly as she stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

He had merely lazily raised two fingers like a sword.

Without even opening his eyes or releasing a Soul Ring,

he had casually flicked his hand and destroyed a Soul Elder above level thirty?

Fang Fan's drunken eyes were hazy, completely unaware of his surroundings.

He smacked his lips as if savoring the lingering taste of those few mouthfuls of wine, then suddenly threw back his head and declared loudly:

"Ah—I drink when I'm happy, and I drink a little when I'm unhappy.

I have only one reason to drink—

I do as I please!"

He tilted his head, his voice suddenly rising and falling with cadence.

"Riding my sword upon the wind, I come to rid the world of demons.

With wine, I roam carefree; without wine, I am mad all the same.

One drink drains rivers and lakes; another swallows the sun and moon.

A thousand cups cannot knock me down. I alone am the Wine Sword Immortal... wine..."

After reciting the final line, he opened his mouth and waited with bleary eyes.

Zhu Zhuqing froze for a moment, then understood.

She bit open the stopper of the wine flask, brought it to his lips, and fed him another mouthful.

The amber-colored wine slid down his throat, its fragrance filling the air.

[ Ding! You drank wine fed to you by Zhu Zhuqing. Drunkenness Value +10! ]

[ Ding, you drank again... +10! ]

[ +10! ]

After drinking four mouthfuls in a row,

Fang Fan closed his eyes in satisfaction.

His head tilted to one side, and he sprawled comfortably against Zhu Zhuqing again, falling asleep.

A satisfied smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth.

It was as though he had merely chased away a buzzing fly.

"..."

Xiao Wu's face was full of question marks, her mind completely blank.

What was that drunkard rambling about in his drunken madness?

Riding a sword upon the wind?

Ridding the world of demons?

It sounded like poetry, yet also like drunken nonsense.

"..."

Tang San frowned and repeatedly pondered those lines.

One drink drains rivers and lakes; another swallows the sun and moon.

What grand spirit.

Was Fang Fan reciting poetry, or declaring his own path?

This white-clad youth was certainly no ordinary person.

Dai Mubai lay on the ground, struggling as he crawled toward the door.

Blood still gushed from the wound in his arm.

It left horrifying dark-red streaks across the floor.

He looked as pathetic as a wild dog with broken legs.

Tang San tugged on Xiao Wu's sleeve, and the two of them slipped away in embarrassment as well.

This drunkard was not someone to provoke.

Who knew whether he would have another fit of "drunken madness" if they stayed?

The hotel lobby became quiet again.

The receptionist timidly poked her head out, then quickly withdrew it.

Zhu Zhuqing supported Fang Fan as they headed toward Room Three of the Heaven Wing. Her steps were heavy and slow, as if she were walking on cotton.

Yet her arm remained firmly around his waist, never loosening.

After pushing open the door, she used the last of her strength to place Fang Fan on the bed.

The young man's body sank into the soft bedding, and he let out a comfortable murmur.

She could no longer hold on either. She collapsed against the edge of the bed as exhaustion surged over her like a tide and swallowed her whole.

Her body pressed heavily onto one of Fang Fan's hands.

Yet she did not even have the strength to move away.

"Hmm?"

Fang Fan drowsily felt something pressing down on his hand.

It was unusually soft.

Warm and elastic.

Unable to resist, he wanted to feel it a little longer.

His fingers moved unconsciously.

Zhu Zhuqing felt his fingers twitch.

Her face instantly flushed all the way to her ears.

She hurriedly moved aside and lay by the bed to rest for quite a while.

Only after her breathing steadied did she force herself up and walk into the bathroom.

Hot water poured from the showerhead, washing over her scar-covered body.

Amid the mist, she tilted her head back slightly.

She let the hot water flow over the wounds on her collarbone, chest, and waist that had not yet fully healed.

The faint stinging pain sobered her somewhat, but what she felt more was long-lost comfort and relaxation.

Days of bloodstains and grime were gradually washed away, revealing the smooth, fair skin beneath.

Just as she was enjoying the bath—

"Bang!"

The bathroom door was suddenly slammed open.

"Ah—"

Zhu Zhuqing screamed, covering herself with both hands as she shrank into the corner. Her heart pounded wildly.

Through the billowing steam, her eyes widened.

Fang Fan staggered inside, his half-open eyes unfocused and blank.

He passed directly in front of her and walked straight toward the urinal.

He did not even see her, as though she did not exist at all.

She huddled to one side, her heart hammering as she watched him relieve himself and stagger back out.

Not once did he glance in her direction.

"..."

Was he sleepwalking?

She rushed over, locked the door from the inside, and leaned against it as she let out a long breath.

Her cheeks were burning, and it took quite a while for her heartbeat to settle.

After bathing, she dried herself off.

She changed into clean clothes.

Her whole body smelled fresh and fragrant.

The hot water had washed away the fatigue and tension of the past several days.

A faint rosy glow remained on her skin from the lingering steam.

She walked out of the bathroom.

Fang Fan lay sound asleep on the bed.

Moonlight streamed through the window lattice and fell across his face.

Under the moonlight, that youthful face looked especially handsome and refined.

"Wine..."

Fang Fan suddenly turned over and mumbled indistinctly.

Zhu Zhuqing sighed, walked to the bed, picked up the wine flask, and pulled out its stopper.

She fed him another mouthful.

She was already used to it. This drunkard wanted wine even in his dreams.

[ Ding! Zhu Zhuqing fed you a mouthful of wine. Drunkenness Value +10. ]

[ Drunkenness Value has reached 890! ]

[ You have surpassed 888 and may redeem one lottery draw! ]

"Oh? Draw!"

Fang Fan heard the prompt through his haze and became excited.

He had finally gathered eight hundred and eighty-eight!

Zhu Zhuqing had fed him wine all the way here, but each time it had only given him ten points.

Now, he had finally crossed the threshold for a lottery draw.

[ Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have received the lottery reward: the age of your first Soul Ring has increased by 8,888 years! ]

Fang Fan's heart shook.

His first Soul Ring had originally been a yellow one of just over four hundred years.

Adding eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight years would directly turn it into a deep-purple Soul Ring of over nine thousand years.

It was a top-tier configuration approaching the ten-thousand-year level.

With only a few hundred more years, it would break through the ten-thousand-year threshold and become a black Soul Ring.

This lottery reward was simply incredible. He needed to keep saving Drunkenness Value.

Amid his excitement, the scene in the bathroom involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

Zhu Zhuqing shrinking into the corner.

Her perfect figure faintly visible through the mist.

Her wet hair clinging to her fair shoulders.

Droplets of water sliding down her delicate collarbone...

That scene had been too beautiful,

and even now, remembering it still stirred her excitement.

Zhu Zhuqing sat by the bed, drying her wet hair with a towel,

her curious gaze fixed on Fang Fan lying on the bed.

Why did this guy seem a little excited?

The curve of his lips was much wider than before,

his breathing slightly hurried,

and he was still mumbling something incoherently.

Was he having a sweet dream?