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

Dog Lord stretched out his paw, hovering it above the screen displaying the fate line, ready to "click" in and take a good look at the detailed walkthrough of this "path to victory".

The wonder of precognition lies in this.

It's not just about showing you the future.

When you choose a particular destiny line you desire and delve into understanding it, this understanding itself will generate a kind of mysterious guidance.

It's not that this destiny is inevitable, but rather that you become aware of the existence of this path and subconsciously or actively begin to align your choices and actions towards achieving this outcome.

This is equivalent to reversing cause and effect.

The world has countless possibilities for development. Destiny Master takes one line from these possibilities and shows it to you, telling you, "Look, this is one of the possible outcomes."

If you believe it and start acting on it, then your actions will increase the possibility of this outcome infinitely, until it becomes inevitable.

Now, I want to take a closer look at this destiny story of "changing identities and living a carefree life overseas," and see what the walkthrough is like.

What preparations need to be made, and what choices should be made at each critical juncture...?

The dog's paw is about to fall.

He had already begun to ponder how to kill Faming more safely, how to use that evil magic that swapped positions, and which country to go to for a carefree life first.

Hawaii? Pattaya? Or the Maldives?

Just as the dog's paw was millimeter away from that fateful line filled with freedom and temptation—

Out of the corner of his eye, Dogman seemed to be drawn to a fleeting scene on another line of destiny beside him.

The scene was too fast, too blurry, but it was like a soft feather gently tickling the most vulnerable part of his heart.

It's itchy.

Dogman stopped moving.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned his head and glanced at the unremarkable line of fate beside him.

Just one glance.

Dog's paw froze completely in mid-air.

In my pupils, the reflection of that fateful line presented a scene completely different from the one around me—

It was a night, in a room.

Judging from the layout, it looks like the living room of a house.

It was clean and warm.

In the center of the picture, there is a large, clean square table.

On the table, there was a sheet of white flour and a bowl of fillings.

Several people were gathered around the table, making dumplings.

Yes, we're making dumplings.

Sitting in the main seat, head bowed, holding a rolling pin and deftly rolling out dumpling wrappers, was Ji Zuodao.

The boy looks more mature than he does now; his youthful naiveté and impetuosity have faded, replaced by a more composed and reliable demeanor.

But the sly glint in his eyes when he occasionally looked up proved that his innate wickedness hadn't changed at all.

Beside him, Shen Qianjie sat with his legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, puffing out smoke.

He was carrying a small wine pot, taking sips now and then, squinting his eyes, looking like a big shot, and showing no intention of making dumplings at all.

Across from him, Chu Hengdao held his broken sword, which he never parted with, and closed his eyes to rest, as if the lively atmosphere around him had nothing to do with him. However, the slight rise and fall of his chest showed that he was not really asleep.

Zhou Langchen was huddled at the other end of the table, holding a beat-up cell phone, talking animatedly to the person on the screen, his face beaming with excitement, probably bragging about his "past glories".

The television is placed on the cabinet.

The Spring Festival Gala was playing inside.

The room was filled with festive music, the host's clear and articulate New Year's greetings, and the exaggerated performances of the skit actors.

And Doggo himself...

In the video, he has returned to his glossy black dog form, comfortably lying in his own soft-cushioned bed.

A small, warm, and soft body was lying on his thick, soft back.

It's 77.

The little girl hasn't changed; she's still as pretty as ever, wearing a new red cotton-padded jacket and with two little pigtails.

She had one arm around Dogman's neck, her little head resting against his, and her other little finger pointing at the TV screen. Her eyes were bright and she was completely absorbed in watching it. She was even humming along to the songs on TV, her little mouth making a muffled humming.

In the picture, the dog remained motionless, letting Qiqi lie there. Its eyes were half-closed as it watched the noisy program on TV, and its tail tip swayed gently.

The dim, yellow light enveloped everything.

Flour dust danced in the beam of light.

The faint "glug" sound of dumplings being put into the pot could be heard.

Laughter coming from the television.

Shen Qianjie's hissing sound as he exhaled smoke.

The sound of Zhou Langchen spitting as he boasted.

Chu Hengdao's steady breathing.

As Ji Zuodao rolled out the dough, the rolling pin made a rhythmic "tap, tap" sound as it hit the cutting board.

And on my back, there was Qiqi's soft, milky breath and the reassuring warmth emanating from her fur.

There was no bloodshed, no fighting, no conspiracies, no life-or-death struggle.

Only the most ordinary, trivial, and even a little noisy...

The festive atmosphere of the New Year.

The warmth of home.

Dog stared blankly at the scene.

Looked for a long time.

After a while, Ji Zuodao in the scene seemed to have finished wrapping a dumpling, looked up, and wiped his hands.

Then, as if sensing something.

Ji Zuodao in the picture suddenly raised his head.

It's not about looking elsewhere.

His gaze transcended time and space, beyond the boundary between illusion and reality, and with unparalleled precision, fell upon Dog, who was watching this thread of destiny.

Eyes facing each other.

In the video, Ji Zuodao's composure quickly faded, replaced by the slightly mischievous and smug smile that Doggy was most familiar with.

Then, he winked at Dog Master quickly and playfully.

A knowing smile curved his lips.

"!"

Dog Master shuddered and shrank back as if burned by that gaze.

He shook his head vigorously and raised his paw to rub his eyes.

Looking closer—

In the scene, Ji Zuodao had already lowered his head again, focusing on rolling out the next dumpling wrapper, as if that fleeting glance that transcended fate was just a hallucination of Dog Master.

On television, the Spring Festival Gala was still going strong.

Qiqi yawned slightly, snuggled against his back, and found a more comfortable position.

Business as usual.

Quiet.

warmth.

It's so real that it makes your heart tremble and soften.

Dog stood still, motionless.

He looked at the fate line that led to "living a carefree and lawless life overseas," and then at the fate line next to it that led to "crammed into a room, making dumplings and watching the Spring Festival Gala."

The dog's face showed a constantly changing expression.

Finally, as if defiantly defying himself or trying to convince someone, he let out a heavy "humph" through his nose, turned his head away, and muttered to himself:

"cut……"

"Who...who wants to choose this...?"

"Squeezed into this shabby room, making all this noise, what kind of nonsense is this making dumplings... and the TV is so loud..."

"I'm going abroad all by myself, drinking the finest imported liquor, dating the most beautiful foreign women, seeing the most stunning ocean views, doing whatever I want—that's what I call blissful! That's what I call carefree!"

"Yes! Let's go on a carefree journey! We absolutely must go on a carefree journey!"

He spoke with absolute certainty, but his body seemed to be out of his control.

The claw hovered above the "Freedom Line," unable to descend for a long time.

But his gaze kept drifting involuntarily toward the "dumpling line" next to him.

It floats for a moment, then quickly bring it back.

It floated for a moment, then quickly came back.

It was as if there was a magnet there, firmly drawing his gaze and his heart in.

The light seemed quite warm.

Those dumplings probably don't smell too bad, right?

Is it safe to eat the stuff that brats make?

Qiqi seems to have gained a bit more weight, but she still looks quite comfortable lying down.

Those three old geezers are annoying, but it seems the room would be too quiet without them.

The silence was so profound it made one feel empty inside.

Dog's throat bobbed almost imperceptibly.

He stood still, engaging in the most difficult tug-of-war of his dog life.

On one hand, there is absolute freedom readily available, unrestrained and able to do whatever one pleases.

On the other side, there are trivial, noisy, and even a little annoying bonds, yet they carry an indescribable warmth.

Time seemed to stretch out and freeze at this moment.

I don't know how much time passed.

Finally, very slowly, Dog moved.

He did not choose that dazzling and alluring path to a life of "carefree wandering."

Instead, she turned around, as if guided by an invisible, gentle thread, step by step, hesitant yet incredibly determined, toward the fateful line of "making dumplings" beside her...

I walked over.

They got closer and closer as they walked.

The further I walked, the lighter my steps became.

The struggle and confusion on his face gradually faded, replaced by a resigned relief and a faint expectation that even he himself was unaware of.

He stopped before reaching that line of destiny.

Looking down at the screen, I see myself lying in my nest, carrying Qiqi on my back, squinting at the TV, my tail wagging gently.

I watched it for a long time.

Then, Doggy grinned, revealing a smile that was a little awkward, a little embarrassed, but also a little reckless.

He raised his paw, no longer hesitant, but with a sense of "let it be," and gently pressed it on the line of destiny.

At the same time, he mumbled something softly and indistinctly, in a voice only he could hear, as if trying to save face:

"cough……"

"Um..."

"I am Dog Lord..."

"I want to try the dumplings that brat makes..."

"What exactly does it taste like?"

"Don't make it too salty..."

The words fell.

The claw pressed down.

This destiny line leading to "making dumplings" trembled slightly and quietly lit up.

Countless subtle, crucial moments, foreshadowing future hardships, dangers, and pain, yet also containing warmth and protection, shine like stars along this line of destiny, outlining a clear path that is destined to be thorny.

The destiny line leading to "freedom and ease" faded rapidly beside it, eventually disappearing into endless darkness and possibilities.

They vanished without a trace.

Dog retracted its paw and took one last look at the heartwarming scene in the chosen destiny line that brought tears to its eyes.

Then, he turned around, his tail held high again, and his gait returned to its usual nonchalant and carefree manner.

It was as if he wasn't the one who hesitated, struggled, and ultimately made a choice just now.

But deep within those dog eyes, which always drooped and looked at everyone with a hint of disdain, there seemed to be something different.

More serene.

And they became more determined.

He knew what awaited him ahead.

Faming's pursuit, the threat of death, countless battles and conspiracies.

He also knew that he had chosen a more difficult path.

but……

"Dumplings..."

The dog smacked its lips and happily flicked the tip of its tail.

"It should be filled with pork and scallions, right?"

"Don't put ginger in it, I can't stand that stuff..."

He muttered to himself as his figure gradually faded away, exiting this space of consciousness intertwined with destiny.

Back to reality.

With a secret and a choice.

From then on, all kinds of dangers and obstacles were on his shoulders.

Just to rush to that noisy, bustling, yet heartwarming moment...

New Year's Eve dinner.