Kill You Myself, The Ambitions of the Styx

So many years had passed by unconsciously.

Yang Jing looked sentimental. He reminisced, "It's been a long time since I had soup. I almost forgot what it tastes like.

"I'm able to taste something homely because I'm going to die. I can die in peace. Thank you, Deified Dog."

He smiled and slurped on the takeaway box.

He had to say that the takeaway box was great at keeping the temperature warm. The soup was not cold. An intense aromatic flavor flowed into his mouth, his stomach, and his senses. He jolted. He felt as if he had fallen into a river of deliciousness.

His tongue was soaked in the soup. The hot soup felt like soft velvet, coating and caressing the tip of his tongue. He was mesmerized.

'Delicious, so delicious!'

The small sip of soup won him over. He went blank. All he could think about was the deliciousness.

Gulp!