Zheng Qing did not care in the slightest about Fatty Xin's curiosity.
Or rather, he did not dare to care.
Old Yao was not some ordinary middle-aged man in a milk tea shop, wearing an apron and smiling broadly. He was a Great Demon, a massive ape demon with three heads and eight arms. The Wizarding World's long-standing negative propaganda about demons had left young wizards trembling with fear, and the ferocity and brutality of the demon armies on the Black Prison Battlefield had only deepened that impression.
Just like now, standing on the bustling Pedestrian Street, beneath the sunlight and surrounded by friends, Zheng Qing still felt as though he were walking on thin ice whenever Fatty Xin mentioned the words "Old Yao." It was as if he could once again see that mountain-like figure on the Black Prison Battlefield, along with those indifferent, blood-red eyes.
Even though Professor Yao, after shedding his true form, remained as patient, kind, and fond of jokes as ever before Zheng Qing, who could say whether that was not simply a demon's skill at concealment?
So the only thing Zheng Qing could do was keep a respectful distance from Professor Yao—avoid being alone with Old Yao in the same room whenever possible, and avoid talking about anything related to him.
After all, he was a top-tier Archwizard, and rumors had been spreading privately of late that he had already advanced to Legendary Wizard. Casually discussing matters related to him was simply too risky.
Compared with discussing a Great Demon, Zheng Qing was more willing to talk about Zhu Si's current condition after leaving, whether the Alchemical Black Sheep beneath Lin Guo had a bad temper, or exactly what would be discussed at the class meeting that evening.
Today's class meeting was somewhat special.