Over the past two years, Zhao Lusi had immersed herself in closed cultivation. She spent her days meditating and refining her energy, successfully breaking through to become a Mid Xiantian cultivator. Now that these two years had come to an end, she had finally made her decision.
Kai Syaoran entered the sitting room and found Zhao Lusi already waiting for him. He took the opposite chair, and the two looked at each other for two whole minutes without exchanging a single word.
Kai Syaoran had never been so nervous in his life. He knew that Zhao Lusi's words would determine how he lived the rest of his days—if he lived at all. A normal woman would have already reported his identity as a demonic beast to the sect elders out of anger, and indeed, Zhao Lusi had every right to be furious. Those two minutes felt like two centuries to him. Beads of sweat flowed down his face and back, soaking his black robes.
