MTL - Priceless Baby: 101 Bedside Stories - Chapter 3111 Fanwai 32, we are talking about philosophy

A decision can destroy the sun, moon and stars. A finger can kill the Heavenly Overlord. While chatting, the Heaven and ten worlds can be annihilated.

A poor little kid walks out from a remote mountain area while holding the Nine Dragons and the Incredible Cauldron. With a control over the time and space eternally, he embarks on the Path to God where he defies the odds of the boundless universe gaudily by fighting against royalty and clashing with the legendary generation.

Carrying the strongest reading system through the world of the Tang Dynasty and becoming a scholar who has just been awarded the jinshi, Chen Qi found that the Tang Dynasty was a bit strange.

The champion is Chen Guangrui, who has just been hit with a hydrangea by the daughter of the left prime minister Yin Kaishan, and is about to counterattack and marry Bai Fumei.

A physicist named Yuan Shoucheng came to the gate of the city. He had three hexagrams a day, and he liked golden carp the most.

In addition, he also heard that Wei Zheng, the Prime Minister of the Right, can kill ghosts and gods in a dream…

Chen Qi was completely panicked.

As soon as you talk about the strategy to destroy the Buddha, you tell me this is Journey to the West?

King Tang was displeased, suppressed by hundreds of officials, and distributed to the Hanlin Academy?

It’s okay, hide in the small building and become a united, who cares about his winter and summer and spring and autumn!

Sixty years later, when Li Tang took a curtain call, the empress ascended the throne, and asked me to come out of the mountains and settle the world.

Since then, the heaven will return to the heaven, the world will return to the world, and the monks in the west can only go to the west.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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