MTL - The Crazy Forensic Doctor Consort - v2 Chapter 1825 Rong Li Postscript 13

“Shameless Xia Ping, not only did you steal my martial arts manual and medicinal pills, you even took my fiancée! We’re not finished!”

What should I do after passing through?

Mo Jun’s answer is:

Life will be meaningless if you don’t work hard to enjoy it.

Then play music, then dance.

(Note: This book is a colleague of Qin Shimingyue, classified as light novels, not historical texts.)

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“I don’t care about how people in this world live, whether they have enough to eat, whether they can wear warm clothes, whether they have dreams and hope. I don’t care about their likes and dislikes.”

“It’s just that if you want to go to the sky, you need a complete advanced industrial system, a set of related research institutes, the most advanced materials science laboratory, and a big government that can coordinate all departments. It needs countless people who don’t have to worry about food and clothing. Dedicating wealth for this requires millions of high-level intellectuals to contribute their minds, and tens of thousands of different supporting manufacturers supply the best parts.”

“In short, it takes a world of abundance, and a great civilization to accomplish it.”

— Ian

A world reborn from its ashes.

An era that is coming to an end.

A group of prisoners fighting for power and power in the land.

A young man staring at the sky.

Prisoners peered out of the window of fate, mostly gazing at the dirt.

Only one is looking up at the stars.

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The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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