'Sang Zhi?'
'Isn't Sang Zhi the Eighth Prince of Beili?'
Li Mu shuddered and looked back in horror.
A man in black robes, subtly patterned and trimmed with gold, strode into view.
Once again, the sight left everyone stunned.
The man's features were chiseled and sharp, and he radiated an imposing, aristocratic air. His looks were easily on par with those of the Crown Prince of Xi Yan.
Good heavens—
What kind of divine figures had come to celebrate Elder Chen's birthday today? Each one was more shocking than the last.
Elder Chen was taken aback for a moment when he saw Sang Zhi. The boy had grown into such a handsome young man, but the aura about him was completely different from his childhood.
In recent years, Qian Fanji and Gu Shuo had only heard of Sang Zhi's bloodthirsty reputation. They hadn't seen him in years, and now, upon seeing him, they both frowned in unison.
'Neither of them wanted Pangtuan to have any more contact with him.'
Xiliu Yuan watched with a calm gaze.
