Zheng Qing jolted awake from his sleep. Before he had even opened his eyes, his mind was still hazy, the events of the dream churning through his thoughts.
All kinds of wind, black grass, multicolored gemstones, enormous black iron and bronze gates, an Outer God's avatar clad in yellow, and that gift that could not be refused.
A gift!
The young wizard vigorously shook his head, casting off the fog in his mind, then opened his eyes.
It was already daylight.
Then he saw a great many brown figures fleeing in panic.
They were the Zoogs.
In their claws, they clutched the snacks, gifts, toys, blankets, and wrapping he had prepared for Zhu Si. Torn scraps of blankets and packaging fluttered everywhere, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of shredded bread.
Zhu Si!
The moment he saw the gifts in the Zoogs' claws, Zheng Qing needed only a second to wrench himself free from the chaos of his dream and recall what had happened before he fell asleep last night—the Little Witch had been happily playing with the toys on the blanket, while he had downed seven or eight bottles of potion in one go.
He looked around but did not see the small figure in the tattered robe.
The last images of the dream in Zheng Qing's mind were drowned beneath the thoughts surging up within him, and his clear consciousness reclaimed his head—at the same time, a violent headache struck.
"Hiss!" The young wizard groaned, clutching his head as he rolled across the ground. His black cat tail lashed wildly like a thick whip, smacking the tree trunks with loud cracks, sending leaves flying, and turning the mushrooms into a pile of mush.
The Zoogs ran even faster.
This headache was fiercer than any he