Chen Changsheng was not Shang Xingzhou. He did not have the lofty ambition or the will to completely exterminate the demons, but he had his own thoughts.
He hoped for the demons to be rendered extremely weak so that for the foreseeable future, they would not dare to have any designs against the Human race.
The Demon Lord's expression was very calm, with no detectable rage. "And then our races will begin trading, the two Imperial clans might even intermarry, and your race will suppress the Divine race's language and tongue, leaving only those paintings and sculptures? What a coincidence—this is my plan as well."
Chen Changsheng said nothing, only gazed at the gradually freezing tea in his cup.
There had never been anything new beneath the starry sky.
This conversation, this negotiation, had no chance of continuing.
The Demon Lord asked, "What I don't understand, since your stance is so firm, is why you came to meet me."
