"None of your business. You're sick in the head, keep pretending all you want, I'm done here. Not playing along with you anymore!"
But as the words left his mouth, he twitched slightly, gritting his teeth, forcing the words out from between them: "Yan, Yan Fei."
"Ah, hello, Yan Fei."
Ji Jue finally turned away from the furnace, smiling, introducing himself: "I'm Ji Jue."
Yan Fei's lips were tightly pursed, staring intently at him, unwilling to speak further.
Then, he heard his voice.
As if echoes from Hell, so distant and cold.
"Do you want to avenge your brother?"
The wounds buried beneath soil and forgetfulness were once again violently exposed, pain, resentment, hatred, like blood, flowed out once more, drowning everything, suffocating him, making him forget to think.
Instinctively clenching his fists, stepping forward, wanting to swing them and crush that false smile.
But he saw Ji Jue's eyes.
