"Aren't you a handyman?!" The evil cultivator vomited blood and stared wide-eyed.
Chen Jiujin squatted on the beam and swung his legs, holding half of the moon cake he had just stolen in his hand: "What's wrong with the handyman? Do you understand the crooked ways of doing the work of a papermaker?"
Only then did the evil cultivator in the crack in the wall see clearly that the red ropes at the joints of the paper general were glowing with light - each one was the craftsman's soul value obtained by Chen Jiujin's dismantling of twenty wild ghosts overnight.
