'How strange!'
Facing Qing Xin, Yang An wondered to himself, 'How did this guy show up here?'
If he were to answer, his voice would likely be recognized by Qing Xin. So, he simply pointed to his mouth and then waved his hand dismissively.
Qing Xin's brow furrowed for a moment, but his expression quickly smoothed over.
Maimed or mute individuals were not uncommon among Cultivators. Such conditions were usually the result of paying a price for power and were hardly a rare sight.
'It doesn't matter if he can't speak. I can't find any other living Cultivators right now. I finally found one, so I absolutely cannot let him go.'
"Patron, do not be afraid. This humble monk merely has a deal to discuss with you. Would you be so kind as to come with me?"
'A deal?'
Qing Xin had no intention of being polite. He called it a deal, but his tone was a command, leaving no room for refusal.
Yang An was all too familiar with the disposition of these people.
