Luck is often the beginning of misfortune.
This saying couldn't be more true.
In the morning, Zheng Qing was still rejoicing that he hadn't participated in last night's Shura Field, narrowly escaping disaster. However, by noon, this sense of luck had faded away like a bubble in sunlight, disappearing quietly and without a trace.
This is probably what is often referred to in mysticism as the 'backlash of fortune.'
"I won't sit down,"
The boy forced a laugh, refusing the headmaster's 'kindness,' struggling to resist the urge to take off running: "Since you're busy now, I'll come back to see you later..."
His voice grew smaller.
Because as he was speaking, Jiang Yu had already followed the direction of Old Yao's finger and casually sat on the sofa, occupying the other half of the space that the Big Fox vacated.
