Ling Fan, accompanying Yao Yue, left the desolate wasteland for a nearby hill.
"Take good care of yourself, absorb the elixir you just took. I'm going to make a call!" Ling Fan instructed, then took out his phone.
He dialed a number, and after a moment, the call connected with a decadent voice responding.
"Hello? Who is it?" The voice on the other end was somewhat hoarse.
"Lawson, from the sound of it, you seem to be in bad shape. What's been happening lately?" Ling Fan asked calmly.
At this point, Lawson, drunkenly lying next to a prison, suddenly sobered up a bit.
"You are..." Lawson gripped the phone, his heart pounding furiously.
The voice sounded familiar, but he dared not confirm it.
"You've forgotten an old friend so soon, Beiming!" Ling Fan said calmly.
"Beiming?" Lawson, still holding the phone, was shocked and confused.
"You... you weren't blown up by those bastards from Snow Country?"
