Lu Shiyan's Adam's apple bobbed, as if something was stuck in his throat.
He was overjoyed at Zhaozhao coming to Jiangnan. He once thought, even if she couldn't accept him now, it wouldn't matter. The days ahead were long, and he had enough time to gradually win her over. Someday, she'd surely come to accept him.
But now, Lu Ying was saying he regretted it.
Like a stone tossed into water, shattering his illusion of a dreamlike reflection.
Lu Shiyan tightened his face, speaking one word at a time: "What do you mean you regret it?"
"Literal meaning."
Unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with Lu Shiyan, the sharp aura surrounding Lu Ying churned like thunder.
In the next moment, a palm strike carrying the anger of a superior came toward Lu Shiyan in mid-air, like countless bolts of lightning spilling from dark clouds!
Lu Shiyan was forced to raise his folding fan to defend himself.
The folding fan trembled violently.
