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

The wind whistled in my ears.

The expected feeling of weightlessness did not come.

The ground beneath my feet still felt solid.

Ji Zuodao looked down.

Where did this cliff come from?

The ground beneath our feet was clearly flat, slightly slippery rocky ground, even covered with some damp moss.

The bottomless darkness and howling cold wind just now seemed like a vivid illusion.

"An illusion array?" Ji Zuodao instantly understood.

"Moreover, it is a rather sophisticated illusion array, which can not only conceal the real scene, but also confuse the perception of Qi cultivators."

He clicked his tongue, secretly giving the bald monk who had set up the formation a newfound respect.

This formation doesn't leak out even the slightest bit of spiritual energy. Standing outside the formation and sensing its depths, it's a genuine sheer cliff, and anyone who comes here would have to think twice.

such a pity.

The bald monk who set up the formation had planned everything, but he hadn't expected that the person who came to "visit" today would bring an unconventional "human navigator."

Qiqi's guidance is that authoritative.

Where fortune points, there is a smooth road.

No matter what illusions or illusions you have, they're all paper tigers in front of God's precious little darling.

Once the illusion was broken, the view before us suddenly became clear.

A secluded path, hidden by dense trees, winds its way deeper into the mountains.

At the same time, a sound drifted faintly on the night breeze.

It is Sanskrit chanting.

Magnificent, solemn, continuous, and with a soul-stirring sense of oppression.

But amidst the chanting, another voice could be heard.

A voice that was cursing and swearing, weak in voice, yet incredibly tenacious.

That cursing...

The richness of its vocabulary, the ingenuity of its perspective, and the loftiness of its conception are simply breathtaking.

From Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Arhats, and Vajras to the wooden fish drums, prayer cushions, incense, and candles in temples, interspersed with descriptions of the monk Faming's ancestors for eighteen generations, as well as various obscene physical structures and ethical relationships...

The owner of this voice used all sorts of dialects, slang, a mix of classical and vernacular Chinese, and even his own strange and creative metaphors to bombard us with a barrage of insults, one after another!

The volume of his voice and the intensity of his emotions almost overshadowed the solemn and dignified chanting.

Ji Zuodao was taken aback when he heard the familiar cursing voice, and then the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up.

It's Dog Master.

This old dog, even after being caught, is still so stubborn and foul-mouthed.

He carried Qiqi on his back and ran along the path toward the direction from which the cursing came.

The louder they ran, the louder the chanting grew, and the clearer Dog Master's curses became. My heart, however, pounded faster and faster.

Finally, after passing through an exceptionally dense forest that was almost completely dark, the view suddenly opened up before us.

A man-made open space, roughly the size of a basketball court, came into view.

In the center of the open space stood a complex array made entirely of a dark gold color and covered with densely packed Sanskrit characters.

The formation emitted a soft yet undeniable golden Buddhist light, and the Sanskrit characters seemed to be alive, emitting a continuous, unsettling chanting sound.

At the very center of the formation, Ji Zuodao saw Dog Master.

I only glanced at it.

The smile that had appeared on Ji Zuodao's face when he heard the cursing instantly froze.

Then the smile began to twist, the corners of the mouth twitching, as if trying to widen the smile further, yet it seemed to be held back by something.

He made a "ho" sound in his throat, as if he wanted to laugh, or as if he had been choked by a gust of cold wind.

He had never seen Dog Master suffer so much in his life.

Really.

Even when he was a child, he was naughty and peed in the monkey-brewed wine jar that his third master had treasured for fifty years, and then framed it on Dog Master who happened to be there to steal the wine.

As a result, Dog Master was hung on the tallest crooked tree in Ailao Mountain by three furious masters and whipped for a whole day and night with a specially made mountain-driving whip.

Its fur was all matted, and its howling kept all the monsters on the mountain awake.

Dog looked pretty miserable back then.

But compared to now...

Can that clump in the cage still be called a dog?

Ji Zuodao's fur, which he had worn since childhood and was as smooth and black as the finest silk, was now hanging haphazardly in clumps, like tattered strips of cloth.

In many places, the true form of the inner demon beneath is directly revealed, making people's scalp tingle and their eyes unsure where to look—

Wriggling shadows, pale eyes, bizarre bone spurs...

His once robust body, as strong as a young calf, now lay limp and lifeless on the cold, bare ground, as if all the bones in his body had been removed.

Only that head, which could barely still be discerned as a dog's shape, stubbornly remained upright, spewing out a torrent of foul language.

It looked like a stray dog ​​that had been repeatedly run over and over by the Great Luck, until it was barely clinging to life.

"Wow..."

Ji Zuodao let out another muffled breath, trying to make his voice sound more relaxed, with his usual teasing tone.

"Dog Lord, the way you're acting..."

"Just like before, when I was played with for a whole day and night by all those aunts and uncles from the Empress's family..."

The words have been spoken.

But his tone was terribly dry.

The forced smile on her face finally crumbled completely.

He stared at the pile of rotten flesh in the light cage.

A fire ignited in my heart.

It was an evil fire that suddenly blazed up from the deepest part of his heart and burned directly to the top of his head!

His eyes were red from the fever, and his fingertips were trembling slightly.

His dog.

He is Ji Zuodao's dog.

He can kick, he can yell, he can tease.

But when did it become the turn of outsiders to interfere?

And they even ruined him into this horrible state?

The dog inside the demon-locking array seemed to have finally realized something. Its head, which had been held high with difficulty, turned extremely slowly, bit by bit, at a tiny angle.

Those dog eyes, which could barely stay open but were now bloodshot and cloudy, finally met Ji Zuodao's eyes outside the formation, which shone frighteningly brightly and coldly under the shadows and the light of Buddha.

Eyes facing each other.

Dog's face, which had been contorted by continuous cursing and pain, seemed to relax just a tiny bit.

The breath that had been forcibly held on seemed to have finally found a place to relax a little.

It looked at Ji Zuodao, and then at the little girl on Ji Zuodao's back.

The heavy stone that had been hanging over his heart ever since he was arrested finally fell to the ground with a "thud," making his chest feel heavy, but also bringing an indescribable sense of relief.

In the chaotic and fragmented future visions seen by the Destiny Path expert, most of which pointed to a tragic end...

This scene is one of the few that shines with a faint but firm glimmer of life.

That brat actually came looking for us.

Dog Master swallowed hard, his saliva tasting of blood, and moistened his parched throat before opening his mouth to curse.

Amidst the cursing, it was still that familiar, reckless, and foul-mouthed tone.

This time, however, there was an extra hint of extremely subtle, almost imperceptible grievance.

"You brat, what the hell are you doing, just standing there watching the show... huh?"

"Hurry up and get me out of here!"

"Any later... and I really would... be trained to be someone else's dog!"

"This chanting...it's fucking comparable to how you cried for seven days and seven nights when you were being weaned..."

"It's so noisy... my brain is about to explode!"

The voice was intermittent, barely audible.

But each word was like a rusty, dull knife, tearing another bloody gash into Ji Zuodao's heart.