Reborn on the eve of the virus outbreak, Lin Wan looked at the blood-sucking heirloom jade bracelet and smiled. In the previous life, they cut out the flesh, bled it, and stole the bracelet, but they didn't know that the real dimension could only be opened by human sacrifice.
When others were grabbing instant noodles in the zombie pile, she was growing ginseng and raising cows in the blood jade space; when the survivors were fighting for half a bottle of antibiotics in the base, her mobile supermarket opened to the entrance of the air-raid shelter: "One pound of gold is exchanged for two packs of sanitary napkins, no bargaining."
Until golden lines appeared on my sister's neck and a military helicopter crashed into the ceiling of the air raid shelter. Those madmen in protective suits held up genetic maps and laughed wildly: "The Lin family girls are the ultimate antibodies!"
The oracle bone inscriptions on the bronze tripod oozed black blood, and the memory of the twenty-seventh reincarnation suddenly revived—the so-called family heirloom was nothing more than a cage used by the ancestors to suppress evil things. This time, she put the Tang Dao against the crack in the jade bracelet: "Either you bite off the enemy's throat for me, or I smash you to feed the zombies."
