"And isn't the Old Ancestor of the Tower-watching Platform about to awaken?"
Liang Qu no longer had any doubts in his heart.
Then came the regret—there really weren't any spare helpers.
Martial Huang Heavenly Immortal, where are you?
And Great He Ancestor, wake up, the Dali you overthrew has revived!
"Liang, cultivate well." The Holy Emperor pressed Liang Qu's shoulder. "You don't need to worry about the Third Prince. After all, he's a descendant of the Shen Dragon, the Immortals will intervene. In a few days, the grand formation will be fully laid, requiring your assistance."
"Understood!"
...
End of January.
"Aha! This prince is back! Another fine hero!"
The Third Prince caressed the Dragon Horn, his paws at his hips, fist jubilantly knocking on his pincers, while Round Head presented him with a gift of recovery—a tray of steaming glutinous rice cakes.
"Hmph!" The Fat Catfish turned its head, "I wondered who it was, turns out it's the crybaby dragon."
