```
Qing Chen sent a message, "Ask him, doesn't he fear being unable to sleep for doing evil? Doesn't he fear going to Hell?"
The other party responded, "Aren't we already in Hell?"
Before Qing Chen could reply, another message came, "My brother is about to wake up, let's chat next time, hehe."
Qing Chen breathed a sigh of relief, it was finally over.
Dealing with such people, even simple conversations can be exhausting.
Now that a Time Traveler like him has appeared, it was hard for Qing Chen to feel safe; the other party was like an evil ghost lurking in the dark, ready to suck his blood and marrow at any moment.
To steal his soul.
However, in this game of wits between them, Qing Chen did have a slight advantage: at least he didn't have to cut his own fingers to draw blood...
At Liu Dezhu's place, the smell of burning paper drew his parents over.