Standing outside the car, Feng Ju sniffed the damp chill in the air. He hadn't had a chance to eat all night, and hearing the sound of his rebellious son slurping as if, black lines appeared on his forehead.
Feng Ju gritted his teeth, his tone extremely harsh and sinister:
"Useless waste, still thinking about eating now? Well, it might as well be your last decent meal."
Feng Mu's skill in Qi Cultivation had improved, and he no longer got angry easily. He laughed generously:
"Of course, how can I refuse the goodwill of subordinates? Besides, what could be more important than a meal?"
As he spoke, Feng Mu looked at Wang Cong with a gratified face. Wang Cong was excited, raised his hand, and a corpse was dragged out from the pipe wall, wrapped in fine sand.
Feng Mu lowered his head, a trace of ethereal light flowing between his fingers, gently brushing over the surface of the corpse, which immediately disintegrated visibly into a pile of lustrous white fragments.
