The blizzard howled ceaselessly.
In the empty Ice Crystal Palace, there was only an old man, a flower bud, and a bonfire.
Chang Weicai quietly watched the flames leaping in front of him.
The bud was still biting him.
It had grown to the size of a fist and was still growing.
Unable to withstand its repeated nibbling, scales had already fallen off Chang Weicai's arm, so he switched to the other arm and let it continue to bite.
The game had lasted more than 24 hours. Chang Weicai was preoccupied; he didn't know how his companions were or whether they had obtained the sword. If they lacked his contribution, could Weiwei hold on?
Time, oh…
Hurry up a little.
He silently prayed in his heart.
...
The bud grew larger and larger, aimlessly yet extremely sensitive, as if it had determined that Chang Weicai wouldn't resist, occasionally attacking him.
Not only biting his arms but also starting to bite other places for amusement.
