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“The eighth miracle…”
Uncle’s hand trembled slightly as he held his cigarette, ash falling, and then he took a few deep drags, “Cough, cough, now that we have eight, twenty will come sooner or later. My Xiao Luo has the makings of a Great Emperor.”
Bailuo: “Uncle, why do I feel like you’re jinxing me?”
Uncle: “Isn’t ‘the makings of a Great Emperor’ a term of praise?”
“I should check my Suitability first.”
Bailuo pinched the Heart of Greedy World ...
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