Ze Tian Ji

In those seemingly unremarkable pickling jars was a rather extraordinary crab paste.

He had used the incomparably precious blue lobster in place of crab, so it should be called lobster paste.

He was presently the head of housekeeping for the Orthodox Academy, so he had an extremely good relationship with the chefs from Clear Lake Restaurant. He would naturally not be lacking in anything to eat, but he ate so extravagantly, even wastefully, that if Chen Changsheng and Tang Thirty-Six were to find out, there would definitely be a massive response.

So he had not let a single person find out about this pickled lobster paste and had secretly hidden it away.

The more secretively one ate the food, the more delicious it was.

Xuanyuan Po didn’t understand many principles and rules of the human world, but he knew this one clearly. As his hand extended towards the pickling jars, he could almost taste the sublime salty-fresh flavor of the lobster paste, the rich sweetness contained within, and that exquisite texture that gradually coated his tongue…

But then, his hand hit nothing.

Those pickling jars that should have been there were not. All of them were gone, and the lobster paste within those pickling jars was also naturally no longer there.

Xuanyuan Po became abnormally angry, several extremely thin strands of electricity coursing through his pupils. His slightly curled and messy hair faintly began to crackle.

The world before his eyes moved from darkness to light, making the scene in the kitchen plain to see.

Not only the pickling jars, the pots, bowls, chopsticks, firewood, and even the kitchen counter had all been sliced into chunks and were piled on the floor.

The entire floor was a mess of debris and cooking broth, filthy beyond compare.

Xuanyuan Po grew even angrier but also warier. Just what had happened, just who had displayed such frightening sword intent?

The entire room was filled with items that had been cut apart by sword intent. Only the Mountain Sea Sword was still there, quietly lying amidst the chunks of firewood.

Xuanyuan Po picked up the Mountain Sea Sword and followed the traces left behind to search for the sword intent. He realized that it was in the oven, faintly attached to some differently-colored ash.

This ash did not seem like that which resulted from the burning of wood, but more like that of paper.

He hesitated for a while, then used the Mountain Sea Sword to lightly prod at a ball of this ash.

This ball of ash instantly scattered.

An unimaginable cold suddenly enveloped the room.

Xuanyuan Po’s body suddenly went stiff, his breathing grew coarse, and his heart was filled with an unfathomable sense of danger.

This cold and danger did not arise from the ball of ash that had just dispersed. Instead, it came from behind him, from behind the academy wall.

It was the deepest depths of the ocean, possessing a suffocating pressure and cold.

Endless blue-green waves had always been the ocean of death.

Xuanyuan Po began to sweat. Before the sweat could moisten his clothes, it was frozen into ice by that chill that symbolized death.

Gazing at the Orthodox Academy in the darkness, the old Daoist nun walked forward.

A line of ice appeared on the wall, which then noiselessly crumbled away into dust.

This scene seemed straight out of myths.

The academy wall collapsed and what appeared before her was the kitchen. Thus, the kitchen also noiselessly crumbled away.

Xuanyuan Po, holding the Mountain Sea Sword, stood amongst the ruins, his body continuously shaking.

Because he was very afraid.

Even though he was very brave, he was still very scared.

The person who had come was powerful beyond his imagination. The Qi was very cold, exuding the sense that it wished to extinguish all living things.

The small house on the other side of the winter lake.

Zhexiu opened his eyes.

Chen Changsheng opened his eyes.

They had both sensed this feeling and were taken by an indescribable fear.

……