Wen Kexing sensed that there was an odd atmosphere between the two of them. He had never seen such a Zhou Zishu, who sat drinking tea and chatting quietly with a serene expression on his face, and felt that they were like old kindred souls who had not seen each other for many years. Though this reunion might have come out of the blue, joy did not show on their faces, and they talked about inane, dull things that could have done without being said. Yet, it was like they shared a silent, mutual understanding in their hearts.

He began to find this “Lord Seventh” unpleasant to the eye, thinking, where did this pretty boy pop up from? He keeps going by “Lord Seventh”, “Lord Seventh”, and doesn’t even dare to give us a name. He cannot be a decent fellow.

Thus, very unhappily, Wen Kexing ripped the human skin mask from his face, and beckoned at Gu Xiang and Zhang Chengling, who were staring, flabbergasted. “Get over here, you little tykes.”

At once, the gazes of the three people shifted onto him. The faint trace of nostalgia had not yet faded from Lord Seventh’s face, so he asked in passing, “And this is?”

Zhou Zishu hesitated slightly, then replied, “A...friend...from the jianghu....”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Wen Kexing quickly snatched Zhou Zishu’s hand from where it was resting on the small table and placed it over his own chest. Slanting his gaze at Zhou Zishu, he whined, “A friend from the jianghu? That’s not what you said to me previously, why, A-Xu, are you planning on abandoning me after you’ve toyed with me?”

In that instant, Lord Seventh’s expression could be described as “stunned”. Even the Great Shaman who had remained silent thus far beside him paused, his inky pupils darting back and forth between the two of them, before landing on the hand Wen Kexing was holding with a strange gaze.

Zhou Zishu freed his other hand, and skilfully flicked at the ulnar nerve[3] at Wen Kexing’s elbow, forcing him to let go. Then he calmly lifted the tea bowl, and as if nothing had happened, said, “He’s called Wen Kexing. He is quite batty, and always speaks untrue nonsense. Lord Seventh, please do not take it amiss.”

Lord Seventh was mute for a beat before he could not stand watching them any longer, and said, “Pingan, what are your eyes for? Hurry and top up Master Zhou’s bowl.”

Like he had just been startled from a dream, Zhou Zishu set down his empty tea bowl, and shot a venomous glare at Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing suffered it willingly, producing a dumb smile that made one’s teeth itch with detestation.