"Trade?"
Li Tianming had not expected this "competitor" to be quite so "polite."
"How would we trade?" Li Tianming remained seated and casually asked.
"It's not complicated."
The golden-robed youth held himself with great hauteur, the innate confidence born of an elite background etched into his very bones.
He stared intently into Li Tianming's eyes, especially the "golden books" in his left and right Chaos pupils. It was as though they were turning faces and flipping pages, the invisible pressure mounting.
Then, enunciating every word, he said, "I give you Mo Xingyun Sacrifices, and you leave this place immediately."
Naturally, Li Tianming was unaffected by the pressure of those Chaos pupils. Though they might have been about the same age, in his eyes, the other party was nothing more than a little brat.
Thus, he asked in some surprise, "Just that simple?"
"Indeed, just that simple." The golden-robed youth was fairly satisfied with his attitude. After all, Li Tianming had not shown any fierce resistance.
"Then how much are you giving me?" Li Tianming immediately asked.
The golden-robed youth glanced at him and said, "You are Chanbao's uncle, which makes you my elder as well. Since I am asking you to return and rest, I naturally cannot lose face. I am willing to offer five hundred thousand Mo Xingyun Sacrifices. I only ask that, when you return, you explain before Chanbao that your temporary departure was for personal reasons, not because of me."
His words were reasonably proper, yet Li Tianming instead looked somewhat disdainful. Leaning back in his chair, he swirled the wine cup in his hand, his gaze fixed on the nectar within, and casually said, "Only five hundred thousand Mo Xingyun Sacrifices? Are you sending away a beggar?"
At those words, the golden-robed youth's expression first froze.