She sat cross-legged on the couch to cultivate.
Gingerbread lay sprawled on the bed, patting his belly as he recounted the events surrounding the Prince's Tomb Corpse King.
unconsciously.
Gradually drifting off to sleep.
The sound of Jiang Bingbing snoring came from the bed. Liu Zheng smiled helplessly and went to the bedside to cover Jiang Bingbing with a blanket.
She envied her junior sister, who never held grudges.
As she spoke, she reached out and pinched Gingerbread's cheek.
"Yeah, it feels really good."
Gingerbread rolled over in her sleep, muttering, "Brother Pig's snail rice noodles, add extra pickled bamboo shoots."
Liu Zheng was amused by her, and gently poked her cheek with his fingertip before returning to his cultivation.
...
Gingerbread is swimming happily in my dream.
He almost drowned.
She opened her eyes with a "whoosh".
Liu Zheng covered her mouth with one hand and held the other hand in front of her lips to signal her to be quiet.
"Mmm!"
I understand, I understand.
Gingerbread blinked so hard it cramped up.
Liu Zheng then released his hand.
Gingerbread was afraid of being scared by ghosts, so it took out a spittoon and stuck it on its philtrum.
The room was dimly lit.
Only the dim light from a few candlesticks in the corridor shone through the cracks in the doors and the paper windows.
"Is it a person who cultivates?"
A rough, hoarse voice came like a death knell.
"Pfft! Sizzle—"
The next second, their window paper was splattered with blood.
The sound from just now.
The cultivator didn't seem to have been killed by a weapon; the sound of the weapon entering flesh and blood and the sound of it being pulled out were both very loud.
Blood splattered so far.
What exactly killed him?
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