By the tea house, Ling Wuce looked at Han Yu as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Are you a devil?"
Getting those Nine Sects' old codgers to do dirty work for you, what's that all about?
"It's just everyone's got their own needs."
Han Yu shrugged expressively.
Nowadays, Han Yu wanted the Fire Spirit, and they wanted longevity, so everyone had a need and found mutual interest.
Ling Wuce had a terrible toothache, the logic was impeccable, but thinking about those living divine artists in the eyes of mortals, digging dirt and pulling grass in the deep mountains looking all dusty, while this guy leisurely drinks tea waiting for results.
"Anyway, one of them is the ancestor of your friend's family, you really don't hold back."
Ling Wuce chuckled and scolded, pulling at the corners of his mouth.
