More importantly, there was no resonance at all between his Netherworld Saint Tiger Emperor and Hu Liena's Demon Fox Martial Soul. It felt like two magnets with matching poles: no matter how hard you pushed, they would never come together. He had never been one to drag things out. If he did not like someone, he did not like her. He would neither force himself nor waste her time.
He quietly stepped back half a pace and said plainly, "You can sit, but don't get too close."
Hu Liena froze. A flicker of hurt crossed her alluring eyes.
She bit her red lip and fell silent for a moment. Then she raised her head and looked Fang Fan straight in the eye, her voice so earnest she seemed nothing like her usual seductive self:
"You don't like me?"
"I don't." Fang Fan shook his head. He remained direct, with no evasions and no room for false hope.
Hu Liena stared at him for several seconds. There was no anger or outburst on her beautiful face, only a faint, rueful smile that slowly surfaced, touched with self-mockery and acceptance. She nodded softly, then turned and left.
The hem of her wine-red dress swept through the moonlight in an arc, her slender figure proud as she walked away.
Rejection would not leave her shattered. She was one of Spirit Hall's Golden Generation and the Pope's personal disciple. Her pride would not let her lose her composure before a man who did not like her.
If he did not like her, she would let go. Cleanly, without regrets.
Zhu Zhuqing came down the other end of the corridor, her cool features looking carved from jade in the moonlight.
She watched Hu Liena disappear, then walked to Fang Fan's side. Her tone was as