"You jest, Matriarch Fang," Fang Chen said, trying to interject, "but at most, the strongest one here is me and I'm barely even at Golden Core Realm."
Lin Zhaoyue turned her gaze toward him, eyes sharp, unblinking, and cold as steel. "So… did I ask you to open your mouth?"
Fang Chen froze mid-sentence. His jaw tightened, and he immediately sank back into his seat, eyes darting toward Fang Yuan as if silently pleading, Nephew… do something.
Fang Yuan couldn't help the chuckle that rose deep in his chest. Because this was the first time he had ever seen his uncle like this, in his head, he was chuckling, amusement flickering across his mind.
Then, Lin Zhaoyue's attention shifted smoothly to the right side of the table.
Her posture remained flawless, but her voice… oh, her voice now carried a gentle, soft lilt that seemed almost saccharine.
