In the dramas Situ Shuangshuang used to watch with her master, there was always an immortal person living in great pain and loneliness, proclaiming that life must be short to have meaning, to be exciting.
To Situ Shuangshuang, this was as laughable as a beggar claiming to regard gold and silver as dirt, for how could one scorn what one never possessed?
"Master, this thing claims to be the Main God!" Dong Wentao's incredulous exclamation interrupted Situ Shuangshuang's thoughts. He looked at Shuangshuang and said, "Why do I feel like this thing is an Evil God? When has a God ever harmed people?"
Situ Shuangshuang sneered, "It's nothing more than a petty demon, not even an Earth Immortal, yet it dares to crown itself as the Main God; it sure has some nerve."
"Master, what exactly is this thing?" Dong Wentao asked curiously, studying Situ Shuangshuang closely.
