Unbuttoning his thick, fleece-lined [Fused Frost-Pine Cotton Winter Coat] right over his blue kitchen apron, Gu Changsheng took the warm coat off his own shoulders.
The coat was nothing flashy to look at—just honest, dark-blue Frost-Pine homespun cotton quilted with clean white goose down and mended at the left cuff by Empress Luo Qingxue. Yet because Gu Changsheng had worn it through eight years of cooking family meals, carrying sleeping kids to bed. Sweeping courtyard snow, every thread of that cotton coat was saturated with Rank 9 Absolute Limit Dao-Father Hearth Warmth.
One pace in front of him, the twenty-five-year-old Original Timeline Gu Nian Phantom flinched instinctively as Gu Changsheng raised both arms holding the coat.
For eighteen long years across three thousand pages of the original script, every single time someone had stepped within arm’s reach of Gu Nian. Raised their hands, it had been to drive a poisoned dagger into his ribs, slap a soul-enslaving talisman onto his forehead. Try to rip the Chaos Bone out of his chest.
The gaunt, six-foot-tall Demon King squeezed his hollow eyes shut, bracing his scarred shoulders for a blow he felt he deserved for failing to save his parents in his world.
