“Who is this bird you keep talking about?!” said Meng Hao, his face grim. A strange feeling had risen up inside of him. This hat couldn’t be killed and couldn’t be thrown away. It really was extremely annoying.
“You don’t know?” asked the hat, suddenly flying off of Meng Hao’s head. It’s shape suddenly rippled back into the meat jelly. The archaic face appeared, and it looked disbelieving as it gazed at Meng Hao. “Heavens, you really don’t know who that damned, mass-murdering, shameless….” The meat jelly began to quiver as it let off streams of curses. Meng Hao let out a long sigh and looked up into the air. After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, he finally looked back at the meat jelly.