"Too little?"
Fang Che glanced at him.
I hadn't stripped the skin from you on the spot only because I was giving Feng Yun, who was listening in, some face.
"I'm worried Grand Chief Guardian Sun will find out... After all, how can we give alcohol to a prisoner?"
Fang Che sighed. "One cup was already pushing my luck. Please forgive me, Young Master Wu."
Feng Wu looked somewhat disappointed. He knew Fang Che was only brushing him off. If this fellow had truly been worried about Sun Wutian, he would never have let him have that cup just now.
He simply didn't want Feng Wu to enjoy his drink too much! Feng Wu tilted his head and glared viciously at him for a long while before asking, "Night Demon, do you think I'll die this time?"
"You probably won't."
There was no need to think about it. Fang Che answered quickly.
Because it was inevitable. The direct descendants of the Nine Great Families had the privilege of not dying within the Sole True Sect. No matter how grave the crime—even treason—as long as they weren't killed on the spot in battle, they could basically still survive.
"Then you just wait."
A ghostly light shot from Feng Wu's eyes. "Wait! Wait and see what this refusal will cost you."
Fang Che sighed. "Weren't we having a pleasant chat?"
Feng Wu gave two strange chuckles. "That was pleasant for me. I was willing to talk. What are you? Why should you enjoy it with me? Pleasure belongs only to me! To myself!"
"..."
Fang Che truly wanted to smash his fist into this bastard's face.
He really had endured it for a long time.
But at least he had managed to draw out Feng Wu's urge to vent. At a time