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I Became Invincible By Offering Up Sacrifices To My Sect's Grandmaster

Zhou Dao transmigrated to a world where demons rampaged and Daoist laws ruled. His sect was in straitened circumstances, and their property was on the brink of being demolished. Desperate, Zhou Dao had his eyes fixed on the coffin of the sect’s Grandmaster and decided to do something with it. A voice rang, “D*mn! You are actually plotting to steal my skull. With your attitude, Sunset Mountain has a chance of reaching its heyday again!” On that very night, the corpse of the Grandmaster moved! Moving forward, Zhou Dao would receive rewards whenever he offered up demonic beasts as sacrifices to the Grandmaster. He offered up a 1000-year zombie as a sacrifice and received the Indestructible Body of Demon Refining. He offered up a nine-tailed demon fox as a sacrifice and received a Fox Girl Puppet. He offered up a demon turtle from the Eastern Sea as a sacrifice and received a high-power muscle massage gun. … For eons, countless Daoist members meditated on The Yellow Court Classic. For years to come, Zhou Dao harvested countless demonic beasts with no intention of burying them. Many years later, in the same Daoist temple, Zhou Dao sat at the front door as he bore witness to the joy and the sorrow of all creations. He had seen birth, illness, death, and all sorts of bizarre phenomena. He put on a crooked grin as he said, “I offer up the heavens and the earth as a sacrifice.”

Xia Junji · Eastern
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1450 Chs

Chapter 664: The Great Zhou Imperial Mausoleum! Seeing Hong Ming Again

On this day, the sky just brightened.

The eastern sun had not yet risen, and the donkey carts trudged along the streets, going door to door to collect the night's leftovers of rice and excrement.

The stench was fresh out of the oven, some dry, some watery, making the dung buckets on the donkey carts dribble with yellow.

"Daybreak cleans, the earth pollutes, you discharge waste, I move it aside, the sky clear and the air fresh, the world's alive..."

The cart driver collecting waste was an old man, wearing a straw hat, with a stick of licorice in his mouth, leaning against the stained dung bucket behind him, murmuring as if he had not yet woken up.

In the city's 365 professions, the waste removers of the capital had it much tougher than the night watchmen.

Hardly anyone was willing to do such filthy work.

Dinglingling...