Under Hongjun's stare, Daochen felt goosebumps rise all over his body.
Daochen really wanted to say, What the fuck does it matter to you, Hongjun, whether I take charge of the Demon Race?
Eating salty radishes and fretting over nothing-what a busybody.
Wouldn't it be better to just merge with the Heavenly Dao in peace?
But when those words reached his lips, Daochen thought better of it and forcibly swallowed them.
There was no helping it. Under someone else's eaves, you had no choice but to lower your head.
Besides, if he pissed Hongjun off, Hongjun could snuff him out in a matter of moments...
"Your disciple is working on it. Isn't that why I came here to collect fortune?"
Daochen grinned, reached into his alms bowl, and pulled out the great dragon of fortune, presenting it to Hongjun.
"Do you really think the Heavenly Court's fortune alone will let you refine the Primordial Purple Qi?"
Hongjun looked at Daochen as though he were an eight-foot-tall idiot.
His meaning was obvious: if Daochen wanted to attain the Dao and become a Saint, he should follow the path Hongjun had laid out for him. That path was guaranteed to work; he needn't even think about anything else.
Motherfucker!
Daochen nearly exploded on the spot.
If he could have beaten Hongjun, he would have dearly loved to pick up the Heaven Measuring Ruler and give him two vicious whacks.
Do you think I want to do this?
I've been fucking forced into it! I have no other choice!!!
The two strands of Primordial Purple Qi inside him had now fused together, increasing the difficulty of refining them by far more than a hundredfold. Even if he really did take charge of the Demon Race and its fortune truly fell to him...
He