"Huh?"
As soon as those words came out, both Zhao Yuming and Zhao Xingyu froze for a moment.
Wasn't the old man already dead? They had just checked him: lying there without moving, no matter how they shouted, there was no response at all.
Bring the old man out… what was that supposed to mean?
Zhao Xingyu immediately let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Chen Xuan, are you trying to use the old man's name to suppress me?"
"Too bad, the old man is already dead. That doesn't work on me!"
Chen Xuan sneered and didn't respond.
Just now he had already instructed the butler: as long as the silver needle on top of the old man's head was removed, his consciousness would quickly return.
"Does it really not work on you?"
The Patriarch let out a cold shout and, supported by the butler, walked out from the main hall.
In an instant, Zhao Xingyu jumped in fright, his face full of disbelief.
Zhao Yuming's eyes also widened, as if he'd seen a ghost.
