After the liquidation of $ADA , even the last spirit stone on me turned to ash.

To fill my stomach, I dragged my feet to the vegetable market at night.

The moonlight fell coldly, the stalls had long been closed, leaving only the lingering fishy smell in the air.

I rummaged through a broken bamboo basket and found a yellowing tomato,

like a remaining elixir after being struck by lightning.

A few broken loofahs lay haphazardly,

like the forgotten corpses of scattered cultivators on the battlefield.

There were also a few green peppers that rolled under a cart, dull and lifeless,

like buried fragments of spirit stones, covered in dust.

I picked them up while laughing.

Laughing at myself, a dignified cultivator, staring day and night at the celestial chart K-line,

discussing class crossing, talking about defying fate,

yet in the end, could only seek a meal in the ruins.

Is it laughable?

Not laughable.

Because I know—this is the trial of the heart demon.

The tomato is the elixir, the loofah is the spirit herb, the green pepper is the opportunity.

By swallowing them, I can reignite my spiritual fire once again.

What does liquidation mean?

What does calamity mean?

In the end, I must carve out a path of blood light in this chessboard of heaven and earth!

— Fellow cultivators, buy the dip on ADA!