Talking sense?
The faces of Zhong Xinci and the others on the opposite side turned grim.
They looked at the young Tuoba Yun opposite them, their gazes filled with malice and coldness.
Tuoba Yun's tone was simply arrogant beyond measure.
Arrogance!
Disdain!
Contempt!
Charity! Eyes with no respect!
...
The three people who came with Tuoba Yun directly sat down on the sofa beside them.
One of them was shrouded in a black robe and cloak, his appearance unclear.
He quietly sat on the sofa in the corner, silent and still, not even raising his head.
It seemed.
Nothing in this box was worth him looking directly at.
The other two were two elders, appearing to be in their sixties or seventies.
They both wore identical green robes, tall and rosy-faced, without a trace of wrinkles.
Just strangely.
One had neatly raised hair, the other had disheveled hair.
"Tuoba Yun, don't think that just because your Tuoba family resides in Yanjing, you can consider yourselves superior!"
