Lu Chen sneered, slowly rose to his feet, and paced over to Zhao Wuya. The pressure around him had already turned several degrees colder.
"A human demon who relied on evil arts to murder the City God and take his place dares spout nonsense before me? Saying the immortals and gods filling the heavens are like demons and ghosts? What a thief crying thief—shameless beyond belief!"
His voice was not loud, yet every word crashed down upon Zhao Wuya's heart.
Zhao Wuya was stunned for a moment. His expression soon darkened, but he let out a cold laugh as well.
Lu Chen's gaze nailed itself to his face, the corners of his lips curling upward. "Did you really think I couldn't see through your intentions? All this rambling was only meant to sow discord, make me distrust the Heavenly Court, and lead me down the wrong path. Am I right?"
Zhao Wuya merely snorted. "Every word this old man spoke was true. Whether you believe it or not is your business, Mister Lu."
"Of course I don't believe you!" Lu Chen raised his voice.
He bent down, drawing close to Zhao Wuya, and lowered his voice. "Zhao Wuya, you've told so many ghost stories, half true and half false, impossible to distinguish between substance and illusion. So let me tell you something utterly certain, without a shred of falsehood. Do you want to hear it?"
A trace of confusion flashed through Zhao Wuya's eyes. He slowly nodded. "Fine. Then this old man would like to hear what brilliant insight Mister Lu has."
"No brilliant insight." Lu Chen straightened, opening the distance between them once more. "But I have one condition. After you hear it, I hope you'll be honest with me for once and tell me about Xiangnan. If what