Jiang Wang leaned back to avoid Hong Junyan's spittle—he genuinely felt that this big brother of his was capable of spitting out an ice mirror in a single mouthful.
The historical idiom "wash your face with spit, so that you may know yourself" had been coined by him.
"Look at what you're saying. Didn't I used to be unable to beat Rakshasa Bright Moon Pure?" Jiang said sheepishly. "It's not that I don't hold grudges. I simply have to wait for the right moment."
"Oh? Worthy brother, can you beat Rakshasa Bright Moon Pure now?" The fury on Hong Junyan's face vanished in an instant, replaced by tolerance and understanding, breadth and magnanimity, encouragement and delight!
"Worthy brother, your progress has been astonishing!" he said with a smile. "I am happy for you!"
Jiang Wang spread his hands. "What I'm thinking now is—at the very least, I can get away."
Hong Junyan stroked his short beard with great composure. "Being able to withstand Rakshasa Bright Moon Pure's attacks and having the confidence to protect yourself before her is already quite remarkable."
"I mean, I can get away," Jiang Wang said rigorously. "Your little brother has gained some experience in escaping. That's still different from being able to withstand her..."
Hong Junyan rolled his eyes. "Then you still can't do it! What are you making such a fuss to me for?"
Jiang Wang had traveled far and wide over the years, and he had encountered no fewer than five founding emperors.
One was Zhuang Chenggan, who deceived gods and cheated ghosts; one was Zong Dezhen, who had ascended Yujing Mountain; one was Ying Yunnian, like spring breeze and gentle rain; one was Helian Qingtong, who seized gods in his white-haired years; and the last was Hong Junyan before him.
Strictly speaking,