Leng Li's face darkened even further after Fan Lang shouted at him.
Not long ago, he had still been able to use his status as Fan Lang's superior to make things difficult for this green recruit. Now the tables had turned, and it was Fan Lang's turn to throw his official weight around.
"Please calm your anger, Great Commander. Please calm your anger," Leng Li hurriedly said.
"Leng Li, there's no fear in settling accounts. We'll take this one step at a time. Lift your head and open your eyes wide. Take a good look at who this is." Fan Lang pressed.
Leng Li raised his head and followed Fan Lang's gesture, looking toward a Middle God standing beside Fan Lang. The man was strikingly handsome, though his face was gloomy and his eyes radiated intense hostility. A huge writing brush was strapped to his back. There were not many Martial Gods who used such a mystic weapon.
Familiar... very familiar... They had definitely met before!
That was Leng Li's first impression.
He had lived for an extremely long time, having experienced over a hundred thousand years. Even with a Martial God's powerful memory, he could not help forgetting certain people and events. He had to search through the storehouse of his memories before he could recall them.
He was... he was...
Leng Li desperately dug through fragmented memories, his sea of consciousness churning violently.
The man standing beside Fan Lang was none other than An Zihao. He stared at Leng Li with hatred and said word by word, "You may have forgotten me, Leng Li, but I will never forget you. Because of you, I was grievously wounded and had to recover inside a star for over a hundred thousand years! Time passed, the world changed, and when I