"Aren't you curious as to why I have come to Beiliang?"
Zhang Suohao, nailed to the wall, lifted his head weakly, a mocking look flickering in his eyes.
"Heh."
Sitting in a carved wooden recliner, the old scholar showed no curiosity whatsoever and just poured the wine from his teacup back into the pot. The spirit talisman flashed, the water flowed washing the teacup, and also carried away the smell of the wine.
"None of my damn business."
Leaning back, the old scholar placed his hands behind his head with utmost relaxation, swaying gently, his expression serene:
"I am but a scholar from the Imperial Academy. Your filthy affairs have nothing to do with me. Had Zhou Li not been afraid you'd be killed and asked me to guard you, would I even be wasting words with you?"
