Light even breaths, and the occasional rustling of soft blankets, were the only sound in the darkened room. Qi circulated like gentle waves, and the air was just right, not too hot, not too cold, regulated by some effective, albeit messy, talismans.
Wen Zhihao was, of course, sleeping.
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This is a Public Service Announcement that having a sleep schedule is good for you ??? (author is not suspicious at all, definitely not…)
But the following chapter is real, I promise!
YOU ARE READING
Dao Of The Salted Fish (Salted Fish Cultivator)
Fantasy(NOT MINE) FOR OFFLINE PURPOSES ONLY (I love reading this story so I put it here) Wen Zhihao is tired of life. When he dies...meh. That's life. But when he gets transmigrated into the body of a young cultivator of the prestigious Golden Sun sect, fu...
