When Mourinho and Liu Zhenhan returned to the main stand, all the Beamons' eyes on Old Liu had turned odd.
Except for admiration, every other emotion was mixed in those numerous gazes, sweeping over Liu Zhenhan's body in turn.
The Moon Elf priestess hurried over to help the primary priest of the swans with his wounds, her demeanor so affectionate that it made Liu Zhenhan, standing aside, purse his lips disdainfully. But even more disapproving was the serpent-like beauty, tutor Cui Beixi, whose undisguised jealousy contorted her delicate lips as if they were the turret of a devil's cannon.
"Stop staring at me one by one, if you have something to say, just be straightforward; that's the Beamon character." Liu Zhenhan felt the oddness in these gazes, his eyes scanning each unfamiliar face with an even more aggressive look.
