Chapter 717: Just This?

Qingque lies on the fish's back, her eyes vacant as she gazes at the sky, her whole body like a Salted Fish that has been hung on a bamboo pole to dry for half a month, too lazy even to turn over.

Now her color has basically merged with that translucent blue fish, gray‑white hair, gray‑white complexion, gray‑white mood—everything is gray‑white.

The nerve in her head has completely snapped, saving even the effort of thinking.

After a while, she expressionlessly sits up again.

Gray‑white long hair slides down from her shoulders and hangs behind her.

She calmly looks toward the distant Golden Giant Tree that keeps expanding, each newly sprouted human face adds another ring, every face has closed eyes, lips slightly pursed, as if waiting for her to speak first.

Qingque shakes her head, the gray‑white hair flicks twice at her shoulders, tossing away those chaotic thoughts.

She pats the few newly emerged golden blossoms on her skirt hem, forks a hand at her waist, lifts her chin slightly, and lazily opens her mouth.

"It's just Shuhuo, what is it anyway?"

She says this while tilting her head, her emerald eyes half‑closed, already indifferent.

Since she opened her eyes, she's died, kissed, run, and lain down, tossed around countless cycles, yet this broken dream still refuses to let her out.

But she discovered a strange side effect—after staying here long, some switches in her body seem to have been secretly turned off.

Not hungry. Not thirsty. Not afraid. Not panicked.

Even the tingling scalp feeling of being stared at by billions of faces has been blocked by a stronger mental defense mechanism.

Probably it's the dream's built‑in emotional balance protection, fearing her sanity would drop to zero and turn her into a puppet.

In short, her mindset is now as calm as an old man sipping tea beneath a tree.

Willpower +10.

She pumps herself up, then continues spouting trash talk.

"Just this? Just this? Just this?"

She raises a thumb toward the towering Abundance Envoy whose body is covered with blood‑red eyes, pointing downwards.

A mocking grin stretches at the corner of her mouth, so exaggerated even she finds it a bit over the top, but she doesn't care.

"That's all the ambition you have, bullying a Xiao Bu Zhe like me in a dream is what, some skill? If you have the guts, go to Xianzhou; an Imperial Bow arrow would leave you with no scrap—oh wait, you're already just scrap, so be even more scrap."

She doesn't expect that big tree to hear; even if it hears, she doesn't expect it to understand; even if it understands, she doesn't expect any reaction.

She is just cheering her heart, making it beat a bit stronger in her chest, not to be cowardly.

"Mere Shuhuo, nothing more!"

After that insult, she feels it's not strong enough, clears her throat and adds: "Looks like a sprouting sweet potato, yet you have the nerve to call yourself an Abundance Envoy? I'd say call it an Abundance Sweet Potato, that'd be about right!"

She laughs at herself after saying it.

Such level of trash talk wouldn't even irritate a child in Luofu's teahouse, but insulting this world‑shattering Abundance Envoy for looking like a sweet potato brings an absurdly extreme joy.

Since death can't wake her, she can only choose another direction.

Defeat the opponent.

When that thought first arose, Qingque relaxed and laughed out loud with a pfft.

Attack Shuhuo.

She, a Tai Bu Si slacking Diviner, Imperial Wall Jade enthusiast, and Workplace Salted Fish Lifetime Achievement Award winner, is going to attack Shuhuo.

This daydream is truly a daydream.

But it's also the only relatively proactive action she can take right now.

At least it's better than lying on a fish's back like a Salted Fish.

A Salted Fish at least has a day to turn over; she's grown tired of turning over herself.

Qingque takes a deep breath, her chest expands, then she exhales slowly.

She extends her right hand, and somewhere between thumb and forefinger she now holds a Jade token.

Then she flicks it casually, just testing the feel, like tossing a card on a tabletop.

The Jade token flips and flies out, tracing an unremarkable parabola in the air.

Then her mind shifts slightly.

The fish pattern on the card's surface lights up, lapis‑blue light surges from beneath the surface, enveloping the whole token into a moving light dot.

The light dot accelerates abruptly, drawing a straight lapis‑blue streak through the air.

After traveling several thousand meters, it strikes a sturdy branch of the Golden Giant Tree, sparking a tiny lapis‑blue flare.

The spark is only needle‑tip sized; compared to the towering tree, it's like someone flicked a speck of nail‑polish dust on its trunk.

But that lapis‑blue spark truly detonated, and the pale jade token she engraved with fish patterns erupted a small, ripple‑like shockwave the instant it hit the trunk.

Qingque lets out a long sigh.

Fortunately, in this dream her strength still remains.

She fears that, like her own dream‑within‑a‑dream, the Jade token thrown out would be just an ordinary stone, the falling branch would block nothing, and she'd have to watch helplessly as everything unfolds.

That feeling of powerlessness, which she has endured countless times, still sends a chill through her when she recalls it.

But now it's confirmed: in this outer dream, the Imperial Wall Jade token's ability still works.

She is not a mere fish in the dream, nor a passerby that Shuhuo can casually crush.

She does have combat power.

As long as the token can explode, she has confidence.

Qingque coughs, clears her throat, and wiggles all ten fingers.

Her fingers open and close before her, joints producing faint crackling sounds.

She doesn't want to stay here too long—it's too boring.

This crappy place has only a tree; staying longer, she fears she'll run out of energy to even complain.

She rolls up her sleeve; the sleeve slides up then down—its asymmetrical design is the problem—then she swings her arm forcefully.

The scope of this move was far larger than she had expected, so after she swung she staggered forward half a step.

In an instant, tens of thousands of jade plaques appeared before her.

They were neatly arranged in the air before her in seven layers up, down, left and right, each layer stretching from left to right beyond the eye's reach.

Turquoise light flared simultaneously from each plaque, forming a wall of light before her, turning her ash‑gray long hair and asymmetrical hem into a translucent lapis hue.

Her emerald‑green eyes were reflected by the jade plaques' glow, looking like two pieces of jade submerged in water.

Honestly, even Qingque herself was startled by the scene.

She had only wanted to see how high her own level was, a casual swing, and it ended up producing this many.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, inhaled a sharp breath of cold air, her fingers froze in the air for a moment before she withdrew them to touch her chin.

Lapis light flickered within her emerald pupils.

Who knows—could she truly defeat Shuhuo?