After Liu Biehan and God-Monarch Ziyang had each taken a seat, Luo Guyin did not dare show the slightest neglect. She hurriedly ordered the servants to brew fine Spirit Tea, then lit a burner of Concentration Incense.
Wisps of smoke slowly rose, making the main hall seem even quieter.
Su Fan, by contrast, had no intention of exchanging pleasantries. He swept an expressionless gaze over the two of them, not hiding the slightest extra emotion in his eyes, his tone so flat that no joy or anger could be heard in it.
"I wonder what brings my two senior brothers to my door today..."
Su Fan knew perfectly well why the two of them had come. He was merely asking despite already knowing, deliberately putting on an act of blank ignorance.
Hearing this, Liu Biehan slowly set down the teacup in his hand.
His fingers lightly rubbed along the rim of the cup. A gentle smile curved across his face, and his tone grew even more humble.
"We have not come today for anything particularly important. Mainly, we heard that Senior Brother encountered grave danger earlier, so we came especially to offer our concern. I wonder how Senior Brother's injuries have recovered by now..."
When Su Fan heard this, a faint bitter smile slowly surfaced on his face, and several traces of fatigue and helplessness passed between his brows.
"My injuries are truly not optimistic. I had originally thought to find a quiet place and enter seclusion to treat them, avoiding the disturbances of the world. Who would have thought that in the end, the Devil Race would still set their eyes on me..."
At this point, Su Fan could not help letting out a soft sigh. His tone was filled with rueful emotion, and a hint of coldness also