The Demon King, Yan, sat on his throne. He wore a cold expression while he drank from the golden cup the servant had served him medicine in.
Yan wiped his lips with the back of his palm while he stared into thin air. The thought of the humiliation and defeat he had suffered at Ren's hands days ago still ran through his mind.
"You should have more cups, Your Majesty, so you'll recover quickly..." Yin stood beside him, offering to bring more medicine.
"No need. My mouth already tastes terrible enough without having more of that dreadful medicine," Yan snapped, his brows furrowed.
"But..." Yin tried to explain, but Yan raised a hand to silence him. He said nothing further.
Yan sighed, closing his eyes. "Instead of having the servants present me with different stupid drinks, you should be coming up with ideas on how to get the Demon God to come to my side and be my bride," he snapped.
