"..."
Xiao Lu had no words.
The elders had all mysteriously vanished, likely retreating for some kind of private meeting to "resolve grievances" in a way only old men knew how—by drinking tea and yelling at each other behind closed doors.
Without supervision, the disciples of both peaks fought like crazed beasts, their spiritual auras smashing through walls and ripping up the gardens.
At any moment, one of them could charge straight toward Su Xiaobai with murder in their eyes, and yet here he was, treating it all like a spectator sport.
Xiao Lu didn't understand.
What she didn't know was that Su Xiaobai had stopped caring about death a long time ago. He'd had close calls so often that the fear had worn thin, like a blade dulled from overuse. These days, he didn't flinch when death came knocking.
Hell, he even laughed when it came close enough to touch.
"You're still here?"
