The footsteps of the City Patrol Department drew closer.
A booming shout echoed from outside the teahouse on Sanming Street. "What brazen fool is causing trouble in here? Come out at once and surrender! Face the court, and you might have a chance to live. Otherwise, you'll be thrown into the Celestial Prison and locked away for one hundred and eight thousand years!"
Whoa!
One hundred and eight thousand years!
A clear, cold voice drifted from within the teahouse. "Such a show of force. One hundred and eight thousand years? Your imagination certainly runs wild. Aren't you afraid of biting your tongue when you talk so big? But I suppose it doesn't matter, does it? After all, in one hundred and eight thousand years, you'll just be a pile of dirt..."
The voice continued with a chuckle, "No, maybe you won't even be dirt by then! So it's fine to make empty boasts. After all, who's going to argue with a pinch of ash?"
