A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Not far away, Old Zhang stood with his hands behind his back, watching the bustling, chaotic scene where laughter and banter had completely disappeared, and the barriers between branches and the differences in age and seniority were gone. He laughed so hard that his eyes disappeared, and kept stroking his beard.

"Good, good...that's more like it, this is the kind of 'Big Man 749' the old man wants to see..."

His eyes were a little unfocused, as if he could see a long, long time ago through the noisy and joyous atmosphere of the fireworks in front of him.

He was young then, well, relatively speaking.

The Grand Secretary of the Ming Dynasty, holding the highest position among officials, also made great progress on his new path of cultivation.

He thought that he could save the Ming Dynasty from collapse and save it from its rotten core.

But he later discovered that some things cannot be changed simply by having high cultivation or great power.

The decay in people's hearts is more terrifying than the decay of a dynasty.

On the day he faked his death and escaped, he looked back at the Forbidden City and felt a chill in his heart.

"His achievements overshadowed the emperor's? Haha."

He no longer concern himself with worldly affairs, living in anonymity, watching the mountains and rivers, witnessing the transformation of mulberry fields into the sea, and seeing the changing of the king's flag on the city walls.

He thought he had long since seen through the vicissitudes of life and the wickedness of human nature, and that he would no longer be troubled by it.

until that day.

The banks of the Xiang River are shrouded in mist and rain.

A young man, dressed in an old gray cloth gown, speaking with a Hunan accent, tall but somewhat thin, walked up to him, holding an oil-paper umbrella.

Rain dripped down the edge of the umbrella, and the young man wore a gentle yet firm smile, his eyes shining as if they could pierce through the continuous drizzle.

He extended his hand to him, his fingers long and slender, stained with ink, his voice soft yet clear, carrying a strange power he had never heard before:

"Sir."

"Would you like to come with us...?"

The young man smiled, his gaze sweeping across the misty river, or perhaps looking into the distance.

"To create a new world that belongs to the people?"

Old Zhang was suddenly jolted awake from his reverie.

All I could hear was deafening laughter, the clinking of beer bottles, and the unrestrained shouts and singing of young people.

His gaze swept over Ji Zuodao, who was surrounded by a crowd and, though his steps were a little unsteady, he still laughed arrogantly.

He glanced at Li Shuwen, who was clutching a bottle of liquor, looking utterly hopeless, and who was being closely watched by his coastal brothers but no one was really going to harm him.

He glanced at Liu Ming, whose face was flushed and who was still playing a drinking game with someone;

I glanced at the dog, who was drunk and started playing rock-paper-scissors with his paws;

My gaze swept over every young, vibrant face, bearing a few scars yet brimming with youthful energy.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, as if expelling the pent-up frustration that had accumulated over hundreds of years.

In his cloudy old eyes, something gleamed faintly in the firelight and moonlight.

He chuckled and cursed under his breath, his voice so soft that only he could hear it:

"Damn it..."

"This new world..."

"Their alcohol tolerance is getting worse and worse."

But the smile on his face couldn't be stopped; it grew wider and wider until it finally turned into a hearty, exhilarating laugh that blended into the noisy, fiery night.

Ji Zuodao has completely lost his memory.

I have no recollection of how I got back to Jinghai or who put me on the bed.

Anyway, when he opened his eyes groggily, his head felt like it had been hit with a chisel, throbbing with pain.

Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the window, so bright that he quickly squinted again.

It took me several seconds to realize that something was wrong with my body.

Sinking, extremely heavy.

I looked down and wow!

Liu Ming had one arm across his chest, and was sleeping so soundly that drool was dripping down his pajamas collar.

Li Shuwen went even further, pressing one leg directly onto his stomach, tilting his glasses to one side, and muttering something like, "Mazu, I was wrong..."

The most outrageous one is Doggy.

That wretched dog, I don't know how it managed to shove its entire head under his armpit so tightly, and it was snoring so loudly, and even in a curve!

His drool soaked half of his pajamas.

"Holy shit..."

Ji Zuodao's face scrunched up in disgust. He gently pulled his arm out from under the dog's head and wiped away the suspicious water stains.

Then, without any mercy—he lifted his foot!

"Get out of here! All of you, get off the plane!"

"Ouch!"

"Awooo—!"

"Splash! Splash! Splash!"

Three muffled thuds, followed by a dog's howl.

Liu Ming sat on the ground, rubbing his bottom, his eyes glazed over, still not fully awake.

Li Shuwen lay on the ground touching his glasses.

The dog was the most wronged; it rolled into the corner, its face blank, probably dreaming of gnawing on a bone.

"You're so rude..." Liu Ming muttered, then closed his eyes and started snoring again against the edge of the bed.

Ji Zuodao didn't bother with them. He pulled the blanket, which had been messed up by the few guys, over his head, and turned over to prepare to take another nap.

I closed my eyes for less than five seconds.

"Um?"

He suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils contracting.

My first thought was: Holy crap! Where's my Qiqi?!

The second reaction followed immediately: Oh no! I was late for work! My perfect attendance bonus for this month is gone!

With a "whoosh," he did a lazy, sprawling back motion—

I couldn't straighten up; my back ached and I fell back down.

A hangover and an awkward sleeping position made every part of my body protest.

"Oh shit……"

He cursed, grimaced, and got up, feeling unsteady on his feet as if he were walking on cotton.

Shaking his buzzing head, he caught a glimpse of something on the table next to him out of the corner of his eye.

Upon closer inspection, there were four bowls of brownish, steaming soup, with a note placed next to them.

The soup didn't look very appetizing, but it smelled quite sweet and refreshing, with a hint of herbal aroma.

The note was left by Qiqi; the handwriting was neat and tidy, each stroke precise and clear.

"Brother, I made this hangover soup. I added some calming herbs. I'm going to school now. There's some porridge in the pot, keeping it warm. —Qiqi"

Ji Zuodao stared at the note, scratched his messy hair, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up.

"This little girl is quite caring."

As for safety? He wasn't worried at all.

In the entire Jinghai branch, who doesn't know that Qiqi is being raised by Ji Zuodao?

In addition, the little girl herself possesses the cultivation level of the Dharma Aspect Realm...

Within the Jinghai territory, she dared not walk sideways; that was because she was civilized and polite.

He put down the note and his gaze fell on the four bowls of hangover soup.

He turned his head and glanced at Liu Ming, who was snoring on the ground again, Li Shuwen, who was lying down and had put his glasses on but whose eyes were still unfocused, and Dog Master, who was curled up in the corner and had started licking his paws.

Ji Zuodao pursed his lips and picked up a bowl without any psychological burden.

"Gulp gulp gulp—"

He tilted his head back and downed it in one gulp.

I smacked my lips; it tasted a bit bitter, but after swallowing it, a warm sensation went down, which made me feel much better, and even the dull pain in my head lessened.

"Yes, Qiqi's cooking skills have improved."

Then, without changing his expression, he picked up the second bowl.

"Ton ton ton—"

The third bowl.

"Ton ton ton—"

The fourth bowl...

Dog Master finally woke up completely. He sniffed the lingering medicinal scent in the air, then looked at the last empty bowl in Ji Zuodao's hand, his dog eyes widening in surprise.

"What about mine?!"

Ji Zuodao placed the last empty bowl on the table, let out a herbal-smelling burp, and glanced sideways at Dog Master:

"What do you mean 'your'? Did I write your name on it? Qiqi cooked it for me, understand? You guys can just have some porridge."

Doggo: "You really are a dog!"

After drinking four bowls of the special hangover soup, the effect was remarkable.

Although I still feel a bit lightheaded from the hangover, at least my head doesn't hurt as much anymore, and I have more energy in my hands and feet.

Ji Zuodao swayed unsteadily, shuffling his shoes, pulling out a wrinkled uniform and putting it on. He then ruffled his hair in front of the mirror until it looked presentable before heading out the door.