"When the time comes, we'll integrate your metal spiritual root, spatial abilities, and lightning-type abilities into it! That'll make you truly unique!"
Yan Yu's heart was both numb and itchy from her mischievous finger poking at it, and the future she described left a burning mark on his heart.
A sword... that embodies all his power.
This thought, like a red-hot branding iron, burned scalding ripples on the frozen lake of his heart.
Little White, perched on Ruan Tang's shoulder, listened in a daze.
It glanced at the sword in Yan Yu's hand, then at the terrifying crack on the ground, its little head racing with calculations.
This man's strength seems to be growing stronger.
If I try to take the little master from him again... will I get cleaved in two by a sword?
As for me, I think it's wise to be pragmatic and adaptable!
It nimbly slid off Ruan Tang's shoulder, ran to Yan Yu's feet, rubbed its furry head against his trouser leg, and made an extremely fawning "squeak" sound.
………………………………
Before we knew it, it was the end of November, the last day of work at the reed field.
It was so cold that your breath would instantly freeze into frost.
Yan Yu wielded his sickle with such speed that he was like a blur, and large swathes of reeds fell to the ground.
His gaze seemingly casually swept over a thin figure not far away.
An Sanchuan.
He still looked sickly, coughing twice, resting for a while, his face as white as a sheet.
But Yan Yu keenly noticed that every time he bent down or looked up, he exuded a vigilance that was completely opposite to his appearance.
With a thought, Yan Yu silently probed towards An Sanchuan with his solidified divine sense.
However, just as their divine senses were about to touch, a sudden change occurred!
He "saw" that An Sanchuan was shrouded in a very faint gray mist, invisible to the naked eye.
As soon as his divine sense approached, it was like a drop of water falling into boiling oil, instantly swallowed and dissolved by the thin mist with a "sizzle," without even causing a ripple!
Yan Yu tightened his grip on the sickle, and a cold killing intent, the kind only found in the apocalypse, flashed in his deep black eyes!
This thing is absolutely not something that should exist in this world!
That layer of gray mist carried a cold, gloomy, and inhuman aura.
This guy definitely has a big problem.
Yan Yu's expression remained unchanged, and his hands did not even pause for a moment, but his vigilance was already at its highest.
At noon, the whistle finally blew to signal the end of the workday.
The entire reed field erupted in deafening cheers.
Yan Yu was the last to hand over his farm tools and had his work points recorded by Li Heping.
Li Heping said with a smile, "Yan Zhiqing, we need more people for the vegetable greenhouses. It's five work points a day. Do you want to go?"
"No, thank you." Yan Yu refused without even thinking.
Winter is such a wonderful time; of course, one should stay home with their little girl. Who has time to earn those measly work points?
He turned to go home, but a figure blocked his way.
It is pottery and inscription.
He looked extremely nervous; his fingers, gripping the hem of his clothes, were almost white, but his light gray eyes were unusually firm.
“Comrade Yan…” He took a deep breath, as if gathering all the courage he had in his life, “I…I have something I want to tell you.”
Yan Yu paused, his calm gaze falling on him, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Tao Zhiqing, is something the matter?" (This chapter has been finished. Please click to continue reading the next chapter!)
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