Liang Luoyu kept his head down, feeling completely powerless. Today, he had planned to arrange a gathering to celebrate his narrow escape from death, but now it seemed like this wasn't a celebration at all—it was more like a farewell party for him.
At this point, he even had thoughts of his own funeral arrangements, contemplating what kind of urn his ashes should be placed in.
At that moment, he really wanted to die.
"Linyan, you don't need to explain. Your identity is obviously superior to that of someone of unknown origin—"
Before Qian Meng could finish his sentence, he suddenly couldn't speak anymore. He stood frozen in place, looking bewildered, completely unaware of what was happening or why he couldn't move.
The others turned to look at Qian Meng, puzzled by his sudden strange posture and the fact that he seemed unable to speak, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound.
"What's wrong with you, Qian Meng?"
