The Latest Foot Massage Techniques: Wishing You an Early Arrival of a Precious Child

Crackle—

The charcoal fire roasting skewers let out a crisp sound, unusually distinct in the quiet of the tent.

"??"

Li Mo finally saw what had nearly been shoved into his mouth.

Truthfully, what he had meant earlier was, "Ice Block, couldn’t you just use a bit more strength with the hand holding the skewer?"

As everyone knew, he was a true gentleman—something all the soldiers of the Greenwood Camp were well aware of.

"Ice Block, you..."

"Still hungry?"

Ying Bing pursed her lips slightly, her expression blank as she asked.

Yet, for some reason, the little foot on her face curled ever so slightly.

"..."

Li Mo, the "Wife-Blessing Battle Soul," put on a serious face.

Lately... had this wicked Ice Block gotten a little too wicked?

"Still hungry, little brother?"

Seeing his silence, her ice-mirror-like eyes relaxed faintly.

Truth be told, she had acted on impulse earlier...

The thought had barely formed in her mind when her foot stretched out—too late to retract, leaving her in an awkward position now.

If Li Mo simply said, "I don’t want to eat anymore,"

she could withdraw her foot and pretend nothing had happened...

Li Mo straightened slightly, his loosely clenched fist tightening just a bit.

Outside, the world was blanketed in silver snow, yet Ying Bing wore a flowing black dress, exuding an air of mystery and nobility, the snowlight lending her an almost sacred glow.

Ice Block seemed utterly unaware of one thing.

Now, with her little foot extended and her casually calling him "little brother,"

paired with that flawlessly composed face of hers—the sheer contrast was lethally charming.

"I’ll eat, but not the skewers (bubble voice)."

"?"

"Ice Block, you’ve been way too... wicked these past few days! Ow—"

Li Mo exhaled sharply, suddenly reaching out to grab her ankle.

Then—he opened his maw wide!!

Though his wind-up was a bit too exaggerated. His breath brushed past her silk stocking, sending a shiver down Ying Bing’s spine. The ticklish sensation made her reflexively kick out.

Blame it on Li Mo’s still-weak grip.

Just a little more...

and his sneak attack would’ve succeeded.

"Tsk tsk tsk, still asking if little brother’s hungry..."

Shang Qinqing, who had just flown into the tent, witnessed the Qingluan Goddess launching a sole-first assault on the peerless Heavenly Dragon.

The latter leaned back tactically, but due to his injuries, he was slightly outmatched—failing to capture that little foot.

What a shame she couldn’t draw. Otherwise, she’d have immortalized this scene.

"Elder Shang, what brings you here?"

The ever-righteous Li Mo quickly sat up properly, casually picking up a skewer—only for it to slip right out of his palm.

"And you didn’t even greet me."

Ying Bing, as if suffering from amnesia, spoke earnestly while her toes flexed inside her boot.

"Ohoho, and here I was about to scold you two."

Shang Qinqing huffed, righteous indignation in her voice. "Last time at the Hanging Temple, not only did you two not greet me, but how long did you spend sneaking glances? Even bumped heads! I was just sparing your dignity."

"So what if I want to witness it now?"

Elder Shang’s demand for a front-row seat was absolute.

Li Mo recalled the incident at the Hanging Temple.

Well, when faced with embarrassment...

"Ice Block, how do you rate the latest sole-massage technique?"

"Not bad."

"Mm, I’ll keep researching. Strive to elevate the foot-massage techniques of the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands to unprecedented heights..."

"..."

Shang Qinqing watched the two spout nonsense with straight faces, rolling her eyes lightly.

Then, resting her chin on one hand, she sat smiling at the side—not eating, just sipping water and chuckling.

Occasionally, her laughter came out as a muffled kukuku.

It wasn’t until Li Mo, curious, asked:

"So, Elder Shang, you came here to...?"

"Oh! Got too caught up, almost forgot."

Shang Qinqing smacked her forehead.

"Wu Qing and the others are still waiting outside the city."

Greenwood City had measures to detect demonic beings—specifically, the severed head of a cursed crocodile mounted on the city walls, refined by an expert. Normally, even a Demon King couldn’t slip in undetected.

Shang Qinqing’s unique bloodline allowed her to traverse the void, bypassing the walls.

But Wu Qing’s group couldn’t.

So, Li Mo needed to notify Qu Sheng. Otherwise, in the middle of their dumpling feast, the highest alert might suddenly sound...

"I’ll go inform Commander Qu."

Li Mo stepped out of the tent.

Qu Sheng was in high spirits today. The usually abstinent commander was drinking merrily with his soldiers, his laughter hearty and unrestrained.

"Commander, I have a few friends. Mind if they join us for dumplings?"

"Oh? Friends of Young Hero Li are always welcome."

Qu Sheng agreed without hesitation.

Li Mo, wary of misunderstandings, added:

"It’s just... their identities might be a bit... special."

"How so?"

"They’ve mastered shape-shifting martial arts."

"???"

In the end, Li Mo decided honesty was best and explained the situation. To his surprise, Commander Qu readily agreed.

The seasoned border commander had dealt with many southern tribes and held no prejudice against peaceful demonic beings—even collaborating with them occasionally.

For instance, the fields around Greenwood City were plowed by Green Ox demons.

After securing permission,

Li Mo headed to the kitchen to arrange for more skewers and dumplings.

Seeing Shang Qinqing earlier had given him an idea.

The fact that he and Ice Block hadn’t encountered high-tier Disaster Beasts on their way back to Greenwood City was likely due to the demonic clans diverting them.

Regardless of their motives, they’d helped greatly.

And besides—

He had a request regarding the Power of the Masses.

Many Disaster Beasts had perished in the southern border, meaning countless towns had lost their "Spirit Lords."

His journey had taught him one thing: simply slaying the "gods" before these people’s eyes was futile. The ignorant masses would always enshrine a deity in their hearts—an idol that couldn’t be toppled in a day.

It had to be a gradual process.

And during that process... gathering some Power of the Masses along the way wasn’t unreasonable, right?

Before long,

The tent welcomed a group of "martial artists" exceptionally skilled in shape-shifting.

Aside from Wu Qing, who already knew the truth, the gathered Demon Kings and elite demons wore complex expressions.

After all, these two youngsters had snatched the Celestial Jade right under their noses—while being hailed as the future hope of the demonic clans.

"Ah, Wu—Li Mo, Ying Bing..."

The middle-aged Whale Clan elder sighed.

"Circumstances forced our hand. But everything I said before came from the heart."

Li Mo spoke solemnly, carrying over a massive pot of dumplings.

"I’ll still share the Celestial Jade with everyone periodically."

"Mm, these dumplings are delicious! How’d you come up with ’em?"

Guo Chuan slurped down an entire bowl like it was soup.

"Tsk, what a shame, really..."

The bald eagle Ling Yuangou nibbled on a skewer, muttering tearfully:

"I’ve been pondering—what kind of offspring would a True Phoenix and a True Dragon’s bloodlines produce?"

"But you two turned out to be human..."

"So all my blessings for ‘early heirs’ were wasted?!"