Outside, Changsun Wuchou, who was on guard, was already sitting bored on the steps, propping his chin up with his hand. He was already thirty-six years old, no longer the young traveling merchant who had just turned thirty-five years ago.
But upon hearing that sentence, he staggered.
His chin slipped from the palm of his hand and landed on his cheek with quite a sound. Suddenly, there was a whizzing sound, and Changsun Wuchou, who hadn't made much progress in the Fifth Heaven Realm for several years, stumbled, his hair bun coming undone.
A single chopstick shot through over a dozen yards, embedding itself directly into the opposite rockery. It was just an ordinary chopstick, yet at this moment it was as powerful as a bolt fired from a powerful crossbow.
Changsun Wuchou grinned, honestly covering his head and running outside.
