"Devil, is this Yang Zhen a devil? He actually wants to take away the tree of the Thousand-Year Daoist Origin Fruit?"
"Are you kidding me, Yang Zhen you bastard, stop it. Can a tree of the Thousand-Year Daoist Origin Fruit be easily transplanted?"
"Bastard!" Fang Zhongjian's face changed dramatically, pointing at Yang Zhen and said, "Yang Zhen, dare you touch the Thousand-Year Daoist Origin Fruit tree?"
"Huh?"
Yang Zhen turned his head, looked at Fang Zhongjian uncertainly and asked, "If I touch it, what can you do about it? Bite me?"
Having said that, Yang Zhen didn't even wait for Fang Zhongjian to speak. He suddenly touched the tree of the Thousand-Year Daoist Origin Fruit with a gentleness that was like stroking his wife's thigh.
"How about that, not only did I touch it, I even stroked it, what are you going to do about it?"
