The Faceless Man sat up.
Li Zhiyuan noticed that he had considerably changed from his initial appearance.
The upper half of his face remained the same, but the lower half exhibited a mottled, broken residue.
Like the couplets on the door from the year before last, not completely scraped off.
Faceless Man: "You have won."
Li Zhiyuan: "What have I won?"
The Faceless Man pointed to the large bell: "Can't you see it?"
Li Zhiyuan was certainly aware; this bell was the sacrificial offering Yu Cangsheng and the others had long dreamed of.
Every covered pattern on it is laden with extremely rich Luck.
Indeed, it is not that Luck is insufficient to be divided; rather, it's your bowl that isn't large enough.
This accumulation is enough to allow several declining large families and sects to experience a rebirth; to elevate already dominant forces to even higher levels.
