The Heavenly Lord of Primordial Beginning looked at Wen Ning's hopeless expression and set his teacup on the table.
He raised his eyelids and glanced at Wen Ning, then at Wen Zhong.
Suddenly, he waved a hand as though shooing away flies.
"Get out, get out, get out. Just looking at you annoys me."
There was a hint of disdain in his voice, but he couldn't hide the smile lines at the corners of his eyes.
"You didn't even let me win at chess. All that affection wasted on you."
Wen Ning thought, You never asked me to let you win. Besides, your chess skills are improving so fast that if I really held back, who knows which of us would lose?
Of course, he didn't dare say any of that aloud. He could only chuckle, hoist the Phoenix-Wing Gilt Trident onto his shoulder, and prepare to make himself scarce.
Wen Zhong bowed beside him, his expression impassive and his etiquette flawless.
Wen Ning hurriedly followed suit, and the two left the Pavilion one after the other.
Once they left the flower-lined path of the Imperial Garden, a cloud corridor stretched beneath their feet, with clouds and mist churning around them as usual.
Wen Zhong suddenly stopped and glanced sideways at Wen Ning.
"Go back to the mortal world first. I'm heading back to the Thunder Department."
Wen Zhong spoke to Wen Ning.
"There's still a pile of official business waiting for me, and your Grandmaster has matters that need handling too."
Wen Ning paused, then nodded.
His godfather had always been like that. He never went in for lingering, emotional farewells. Once he'd said what needed saying, he turned and left, swift and decisive.
Only after Wen Zhong's figure vanished beyond the clouds did Wen Ning look away. He