Fang Che had never refused anyone who wanted to imitate him or learn from him. If they could learn, they naturally would; if they couldn't, they wouldn't be able to learn it in a lifetime.
But he had never taken the initiative to teach anyone.
That included Mo Ganyun. He didn't teach him, but he didn't forbid him from learning either.
Between you and me, there were no favors. If you learned it, that was your own business. If you couldn't, that was also your own business.
It was precisely because Mo Ganyun had realized this that he invited Fang Che to eat every day.
Because he felt he had struck it rich.
After eating, they walked along the road.
Suddenly, someone stopped in front of them.
Fang Che looked up. The person was very familiar.
A frosty face, frosty eyes, and a frosty presence.
Ding Ziran.
This Seed Player from the Three Saints Sect was looking at Fang Che with a complicated expression. His face remained icy, and his voice was low. "That night... were you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Were you injured?"
"No."
"That's good."
Ding Ziran kept his face stiff as he brushed past Fang Che.
"Why did you suddenly come ask me?"
Fang Che turned and asked.
A trace of a forced smile appeared on Ding Ziran's icy face. It seemed he had not smiled in a long time, and the smile was extremely strained.
He said, "Didn't you say that no matter who won or lost, we were friends?"
Fang Che smiled. "Of course. Brother Ding, you..."
Ding Ziran instead took a step back and lowered his head. When he raised it again, his eyes were already filled with nothing but indifference. He said softly, "It's not good for you to be friends with me."