In his sleep, Ouyang felt he was having an utterly chaotic dream.
There were Immortals and hands pulling strings behind the scenes. The sky turned black one moment, blood-red the next, then dark blue. An enormous shadow stared at him with scarlet eyes.
Worse still, those unruly sons of his kept dying gruesomely before him in all sorts of bizarre poses...
All manner of emotions crowded Ouyang's heart.
He had finally seized a chance to get some peaceful sleep.
Who would have thought it would turn out to be anything but restful!
His tightly knitted brows eased slightly. Ouyang opened his eyes, a trace of weariness in them. His left temple throbbed faintly, just like that old ailment from his previous life.
Lately, the unruly sons at home had been making their moves one after another, turning him into a firefighter rushing around putting out fires. It really had been too much of a burden on him.
Fortunately, only the matter of his second junior brother remained, so he had some time to rest.
Ouyang let out a long breath. Although he had not slept very peacefully, he had at least gotten some sleep, and his muddled head felt much clearer.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
A racket sounded beside Ouyang. He turned to look, and an odd expression appeared on his face.
Dressed in fitted black clothes, Leng Qingsong was holding Liang Zai up and firing at Little Bie San, whose face said he had nothing left to live for.
He imitated the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire with his mouth, spraying spit all over Little Bie San's face.
Even Ouyang had never seen such a wealth of expressions on his second junior brother's face. Only after discreetly taking out a Recording Stone and recording a short segment
did he look at Leng Qingsong in