Saint-Michel Cathedral embodies a wholly different kind of sacredness—calm, serene, simple, and profound. Within its walls, all restlessness fades away. Perhaps only such quietness allows the priests to devote themselves to prayer and contemplation, and only such warmth draws faithful from all directions, willing to risk being swallowed by the shifting sands or swept away by the tides to make the pilgrimage up the mountain. At the summit of the cathedral's bell tower, the Archangel Saint-Michel holds a sword aloft, wings outstretched, guarding the land of Normandy. In the Bible, he is the guardian of the heavenly gate, a hero who once defeated the devil Satan. He weighs human souls, discerning between good and evil, and guides people into heaven, shielding them from the temptations of evil spirits. From the summit of Saint-Michel, one can overlook the endless expanse of shifting sands, with the Atlantic Ocean only visible some fifteen kilometers away. Do not be deceived by the surface of the smooth, even sand—it harbors hidden currents that slide like serpents, coiling around your legs. When people panic and cannot pull their legs free, they are gradually swallowed by the sand. Victor Hugo once wrote: "To be buried in sand is a profoundly dramatic fate, a long, inevitable, and merciless process." This scene unfolded within the magnificent Saint-Michel Cathedral. A priest addressed all the present pilgrims, shouting, "I am here, representing the true God! Look! What am I holding?" Thousands of pilgrims witnessed the black-robed priest holding a sharp sword, and together they exclaimed, "Wow! It's a sword!" The priest nodded proudly and said, "Do you know? This is the sacred sword of the Holy Spirit, granted by the true God." After the priest finished speaking, he blew a breath onto the sword, and instantly, the sword radiated a brilliant glow, so bright it blinded everyone. The pilgrims immediately fell to their knees, bowing deeply and chanting to the priest: "Our Lord! Our God! Thank you, Holy Spirit, for descending upon us in person! We pray that the Holy Spirit will protect us and keep us free from the temptations of the devil!" Seeing the pilgrims' fervent devotion, the black-robed priest smiled with quiet pride. Originally, the six women—Gao Liang, Ying'er, Zhang Yuping, Chen Yuting, Dong Jiao, and Yu Di—had been together. However, when the sound of the bell from Saint-Michel Cathedral rang out, tens of thousands of pilgrims surged in from all directions like a tidal wave, and the five women, unaccustomed to such a scene, were suddenly scattered. Chen Yuting fortunately had managed to crouch down by a step, holding her head tightly, and only rose when the crowd had finally passed. At that moment, Chen Yuting noticed that the other sisters had disappeared, leaving only Gao Liang standing still beside her. "Husband! Why aren't you moving? The crowd just surged like a flood!" Chen Yuting asked Gao Liang, puzzled. Gao Liang chuckled, made a graceful gesture, and said simply, "Waiting for you?" Chen Yuting deliberately said it with a touch of self-importance, though she was secretly delighted. At that time, a strong French boxer approached. He wore a black eye patch on his right eye—clearly a one-eyed giant—tall at 2.2 meters, commanding presence, with well-developed, powerful muscles in his arms and legs. As he walked, the floor tiles seemed to tremble. Behind him came over thirty assistants, each holding a staff, and wherever the one-eyed giant went, people stepped back in fear. Soon, the one-eyed dragon spotted Chen Yuting and Gao Liang beside him. Today, Chen Yuting wore a rose-colored French noble gown, a lady's hat on her head, and long leather boots—perfectly tailored, as if she were a proud French princess. The sight completely stunned the one-eyed dragon. He raised a single finger toward his underlings. Instantly, they gathered around Chen Yuting. Terrified, Chen Yuting quickly took refuge behind Gao Liang. Gao Liang, on the other hand, remained completely composed, as though nothing had happened at all. He held a JH128-shaped pipe, with high-end cigars rising from the pipe. As he exhaled in steady streams, the smoke formed swirling rings in the air. Gao Liang's smoke rings were no ordinary display—he could shape them into various forms. This time, he created a spiraling pattern that continuously rotated and ascended. The thirty-some underlings had never seen anything like it, all of them astonished. If an ordinary person, let alone spitting out spiral rings, would manage just three or even two and a half loops—what a feat! It clearly shows that the man who spits out spiral smoke rings is no ordinary person. Thirty-some tough guys stood there, stunned, as if rooted to the spot, each one staring at their boss, the One-Eyed Dragon. With his sharp left eye fixed on Gao Liang, the One-Eyed Dragon hesitated, then finally said to the thirty-some men, "Let's go!" Immediately, all thirty-some men followed the One-Eyed Dragon. Chen Yuting had been terrified all along, while Gao Liang remained calm and composed—calm even if the heavens collapsed. After all, I am the Divine Warrior King of the universe, a true god bestowed with the light deity. Gao Liang's simple act of spitting out a smoke ring amazed and subdued the One-Eyed Dragon and his thirty-some men—a true miracle. Yet, for Gao Liang, such a miracle is nothing short of routine. I'm actually quite reserved—only stepping forward when absolutely necessary. Our highlight was in high spirits today, pulling Chen Yuting's hand and saying, "Let's go in and take a look at the magnificent pilgrimage scene inside Saint-Michel Church! Maybe Ying'er, Ping'er, Jiao'er, and Di'er are all there!" Chen Yuting truly longed to spend more time alone with her husband, even though her sisters kept making polite concessions—after all, women are naturally self-centered; who wouldn't prefer to spend more time with their own husbands? At this moment, Chen Yuting pretended to be tired, even unintentionally appeared weak and unsteady, swaying as if about to fall to the ground. Naturally, Highlight was deeply moved and cherished each of his wives with great tenderness. "Come on!" He knelt down on the ground, facing away from Chen Yuting. Wow! Really? My husband is actually offering to carry me! How delighted I am! Chen Yuting never expected that, with just a slight pretense of foot pain at this moment, she would end up holding her beloved husband’s hand and willingly leaning on him. She immediately grasped Highlight’s neck and mounted his back. Highlight’s back was solid and warm, and to Chen Yuting, it felt like a sense of security. At that moment, another wave of pilgrims arrived, flowing in like a tide, rushing forward in a continuous stream. Highlight, unprepared, was pushed forward by the crowd behind him. Man, this feeling was truly unbearable.