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In the guest hall, the rich aroma of tea curled into the air.
Dai Qingge, being personally served tea by the foremost figure in the divine land, felt as if his entire body was floating. He dazedly accepted the cup Yuxu handed him, inwardly resolving: Even if my father beats me to death, I’m following Yuxu from now on. Those baldies are nothing.
Guess I’d better start studying the Daoist scriptures soon… hopefully, there won’t be too much of it…
Yet, at that moment, “Qin Jiu” was muttering, “I’m Qin Jiu, not some subduer of the underworld…”
…He’s still hung up on this?
“Is there a difference?” Yuxu asked casually. “Or perhaps you’d prefer sleeping with the underworld? That wouldn’t be entirely incorrect either[1].”
Dai Qingge stared blankly, unable to discern any difference between the three pronunciations. His mind was full of question marks.
Zhao Changhe, however, did see the unwritten subtitles—and had just taken a sip of tea when he heard it. He immediately choked and sprayed the tea out, coughing violently. “Old Daoist, you’re now number one under the heavens, how can you talk like this?”
Yuxu responded with an expressionless chuckle. “Heh.”
Zhao Changhe knew exactly who Yuxu was mocking. And honestly, he had no way to refute...
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