Wen Jiayin figured the Heavenly Dao in this world probably had no idea what showing the middle finger meant.
But after thirty-four bolts of lightning struck her down, the thirty-fifth, which should have followed right after, never fell.
The tribulation clouds churned, growing more and more menacing. Clearly, heaven had no intention of letting her pass easily. Wen Jiayin’s spiritual power hadn’t run dry yet, but her body was numb and aching, and her movements were starting to slow.
As her cultivation rose, her poor constitution had increasingly dragged down her sword practice. Wen Jiayin could finally understand why...
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