Tang San's voice was unhurried, elegant, and pleasant, without the slightest trace of anger or hostility.
"Let us consider the conflict just now a misunderstanding. My two companions have always been rather hot-tempered and may have caused offense. I hope Sect Master will be magnanimous and not hold it against them. As the saying goes, no friendship without a fight. Meeting through martial arts can also be considered fate."
He paused, then added sincerely, "I truly bear no ill intentions on this visit. I merely heard that your clan had produced a rare genius, a young man named Zichuan. Curious, I wished to meet him, witness his brilliance, and form a good connection—not harm him. I hope Sect Master can accommodate me."
His words were flawless, offering them a way out while lowering his own stance, as though he were truly a wandering powerhouse who admired Zichuan's reputation and wished to befriend a genius.
Tang San believed that, as a God King, lowering himself to say such things had already granted Du Busi immense face. The man's ancestral graves should have been smoking with good fortune.
Had it been anyone else, they would likely have been overwhelmed with gratitude and hastily yielded.
However, Du Busi was not someone who could be fooled by a few casual words. He had lived for nearly two hundred years. What situation had he not seen? What schemes had he not endured?
Whether someone was human or ghost, sincere or deceitful, he could tell seven or eight parts out of ten with a single glance.
Although the blue-haired young man before him wore a warm smile and spoke appropriately, the indifference deep in his eyes and his lofty bearing—as though he were looking at an ant—had not been completely concealed.
Moreover, Da Ming and Er