The God of Stove left a warning and then disappeared.
Tu Sanyi's face turned pale.
In this world, if the gods say one is not devout, it's almost as if a death sentence has been declared, and it becomes nearly impossible to walk anywhere.
But the white rice at home can at most last until the harvest is ready!
If he continues to offer as much as when his parents were alive, in just two months everything would run out, leaving not even enough sweet potato rice for himself.
Tu Sanyi was just an ordinary young man, and thinking of all this made him tremble with fear.
Outside, as the sun rose in the east, the Great Sun had already shown its outline.
"Oh no!"
Tu Sanyi shivered.
No matter how terrified or scared he was, as the sun was about to rise, he instinctively began to do certain things, things taught by his parents since childhood, coming to mind as naturally as breathing.
Tu Sanyi went to his parents' room again to fetch incense, paper currency, and white rice.
