Jiang Zhanlei took a deep breath, then said, "What if your son is fake?"
"Impossible. My son's aura, and the fluctuations from our bloodline—they absolutely cannot be mistaken."
Ximen Tiankuang immediately refuted him, his expression extremely agitated.
Jiang Zhanlei's expression did not change much. "You say it's impossible, so how do you explain the change in your son's talent?"
"Do you truly think a person can shed his mortal shell and be reborn overnight? At least, I don't believe it's possible."
Ximen Tiankuang's face changed wildly, and the scales in his heart slowly began to tip.
Yes.
At this moment, even he was no longer as certain as he had imagined.
But soon, he rejected the speculation again. "What you said is nothing more than conjecture."
"You say a person's talent cannot suddenly change, but some people can gain enlightenment overnight and receive the fortune of heaven and earth. How do you explain that?"
"And explain this to me—how can the fluctuations of a person's bloodline be forged?"
Jiang Zhanlei frowned slightly.
This time, he had no rebuttal.
It could not be denied that all his possibilities had indeed stemmed from conjecture.
And conjecture meant there was no evidence.
Yet what Ximen Tiankuang needed was evidence.
He could provide none of it.
Ximen Tiankuang sneered. "I've said this matter is over, and there is no need for you to deny all of it any further."
"Before this, you truly were someone worthy of respect. But now, you've become a joke."
"I suppose there is nothing left for us to discuss."
"As for joining hands against a common enemy, the Ximen Clan is capable of handling things ourselves. Why would we need to keep company with yet another enemy?"
With that, he rose and left directly.
Jiang Zhanlei's expression darkened sharply.