Upon hearing Zhou Bai's words, Zheng Wentian felt a sense of unease, an instinctive reaction.
At this moment, however, Zheng Wentian didn't know the source of his discomfort.
He looked at Zhou Bai before him, thinking that they had become friends, and that Zhou Bai would no longer ask him for credits like before.
'A misperception?'
'I've become good friends with Zhou Bai, I should be worried about Zhou Bai's enemies, not living in fear every day.'
With these thoughts, Zheng Wentian suddenly felt at ease. He didn't know why, but the thought of not being Zhou Bai's enemy brought him a great sense of security.
So, Zheng Wentian laid down. Unlike Zhou Bai, who had a stronger body, he had to sleep two to three hours a day after persistent cultivation.
Now, without the desire to cultivate or eat, he felt the wave of sleepiness sweeping through every corner of his body.
As he relaxed slightly, his consciousness began to blur and he gradually drifted off to sleep.
