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... p>

The old man's voice cracked as he threw himself over the limp body of a young girl, shielding her with his frail frame.

His cry was drowned by laughter—a twisted, hoarse sound that echoed like a hyena's howl through the smoking village.

"Oh? You think you can bargain now?" sneered one of the demonic cultivators, his face marked with dark veins, his pupils thin as needles.

His hand crackled with dark energy, a deep violet that hissed as it struck the ground.

...

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I can identify everything and even predict my own death.

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Mu Sheng: “It’s good to be alone.”
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Ye Xingyao, the young master of Tianjimen, was in a state of desperation, his white clothes stained with blood.
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Mu Sheng: “I’m an atheist, I don’t believe in fate.”

She really just wants to be a salted fish, grow crops, make alchemy, and raise furry. She doesn’t want to face all the heroines!

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