The middle-aged man gasped for air, his face ashen.
Pang Wenxuan endured the sharp pain in his forehead and asked the trembling Lin Bao, "What in the world is going on? What just happened?"
"He... he said he's been made a Prince!" Lin Bao's lips chattered, his hands clutching his pant legs so hard his nails nearly dug into his flesh.
Pang Wenxuan, still reeling, raised his eyebrows. "What kind of Prince?"
"The Zhennan Prince!"
Those three words seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. The moment he uttered them, Lin Bao collapsed to the ground, shivering uncontrollably. "Young Master, we've provoked someone we can't afford to offend! Beg for mercy, quickly!"
Pang Wenxuan was completely dumbfounded, the pain in his head forgotten as his eyes bulged wide.
Is this a joke?
Chen Yang, his face a mask of indifference, walked up to Feng Kun and tilted his head. "What did you say just now? I didn't hear you clearly. Could you repeat it?"
