"Very well."
Lin Mo knew that, as the proud chief of Snow Burial Valley, Xue Qingcheng would never submit to slavery like these people, even as a temporary disguise.
He had Xue Qingcheng return to the inner Gourd Space first, then carried his pickaxe among the slaves, searching for a suitable target.
Finally, he chose a middle-aged man at the third level of the Spirit Transformation Realm, who was quietly working with his head down.
Among the hundred-odd slaves here, this man's cultivation made him stand out like a crane among chickens.
And the air he exuded was rather different from the others as well.
Lin Mo approached the man and imitated his movements, swinging his pickaxe to mine Spiritual Ore.
But after only a few swings, he smiled and asked, "Brother, what should I call you?"
The man did not even glance at Lin Mo. He continued swinging his pickaxe without expression, his eyes as stagnant as dead water, without the slightest ripple.
Lin Mo could not help sighing, then said with an irrepressible chuckle, "You carry yourself with such dignity, brother. I thought you were a hero."
"To think you're nothing but a spineless wretch who's surrendered. It seems I misjudged you."
Only then did a trace of coldness finally emerge in the man's dull, lifeless eyes.
He turned to glance at Lin Mo and said coldly, "Spare me your smug remarks."
"Work here for ten days, and I guarantee you won't want to speak to anyone either."
"Oh?"
Intrigued, Lin Mo asked, "Then how long have you been working here, brother?"
The man answered hoarsely, "Three full years, without a moment's rest."
Lin Mo felt a measure of genuine respect. "Your perseverance truly is admirable, brother."
"Have you never thought about resting for a few days?"
"How