Were he a normal adult, chatting with someone with the mental capacities of a young child, perhaps he would become easily bored, but Fan Xian was not that sort of person. Fan Xian had spent the last years of his previous life confined to his sickbed, unable to move, and in this life, when he was practicing strange and powerful arts, he would often find himself slipping into a vegetative state, and so he had great patience. Even more than that, he felt pity for his brother-in-law, Dabao, and his learning difficulties, so he could control his temper with a smile and chatted happily with Dabao.
As Fan Xian saw it, the plump fellow who moved around slowly was more loveable than the other people of the capital, and more trustworthy.
"Big brother, why am I so fat while you are so thin?" Dabao frowned, seemingly perplexed by this problem.
