The Suffering Great Scholar quietly admired the bloody tusk in his hand, as if beholding a freshly forged masterpiece.
"How beautiful. Brimming with spiritual essence, its sheer texture reveals the blessings heaven bestowed upon you. Your talent is indeed remarkable,
such innate brilliance within your bones allows me to push my godson toward the seven incense level."
His right hand's five fingers gradually plunged into Lin Xia's throat: "Ms. Lin, your daughter was killed by a kidnapper, sparking your hatred. Yet, you fail to grasp the truth of this world: the weak are unworthy of seeking revenge.
The Liao Ghost Hall is far too small. Revenge is a luxury you cannot afford. Now, bid a proper farewell to this world."
The Suffering Great Scholar held six incense levels, and had already progressed significantly along the path of the sixth incense.
Lin Xia, at the fourth incense gazing toward the fifth, was far beneath him.
