Without a doubt.
That chair was the Dragon Chair that had made people for thousands of years rush forward, dreaming of it, gladly losing their heads and spilling their blood...
As for whether it was "one in the Forbidden City, one here for me," or a one‑to‑one replica, Boss Jiang hadn't reached that level yet and couldn't tell. Besides, it was indeed a bit far away.
Of course.
He couldn't tell if the Dragon Chair was real or fake, but he could clearly see the woman on the Dragon Chair.
The Dragon Chair can be copied, but a person's aura is very hard to imitate.
So.
He didn't dare step forward anymore.
He really had been careless.
That kid Martial Saint is loyal and righteous; he'd even gone out of his way to call him and remind him to take it easy...
No, wait.
You can't really blame someone for letting their guard down; it wasn't him who wanted to come back, it was Fang Qing who "deported" him back.
Could it be...
There really are gods three feet above our heads?
