A sudden gust of wind swept past. Even with Fang Shuwen's level of Cultivation, his vision blurred for an instant.
Fang Mingxuan, who had just been sitting in the main seat, was now standing before him.
He covered the glowing Seven-String Ancient Chapter with his sleeve, wiping away the drop of blood in the same motion.
His movements were as fluid as flowing water, yet when he looked at Fang Shuwen again, his gaze trembled uncontrollably.
For a moment, Fang Shuwen didn't know how to describe it. Fang Mingxuan's gaze was... so cautious, as if he were looking at a beautiful dream that would shatter at the slightest touch.
His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
He reached out and grasped Fang Shuwen's wrist.
He wanted to squeeze tightly, yet he didn't dare...
When he finally spoke, it wasn't in words or sentences, just a few meaningless syllables.
And yet, they seemed to convey a million unspoken words.
