The same starry night, different people.
At the wine banquet, the cultivators from Dragon Tiger Mountain laughed merrily, their joyful laughter echoing throughout the venue.
But the happiness belonged to others; Zhang Longyi raised his glass with a rigid expression, looking like a walking corpse. He now only felt their noise disturbing.
Especially a few who had some past grievances with him were glancing at Zhang Ronger and him with thieving eyes, eventually settling their gaze on Zhang Ronger, whispering to each other as if judging something.
Even when a few well-acquainted friends saw his despondent look and came over to clink glasses with him, he still felt a strong sense of mockery in their eyes.
Zhang Longyi's face was expressionless, sitting quietly at the table without a word, except when raising his glass with the group.
