Still, Lin Fan remained blissfully unaware.
"I'm telling you," he whispered to himself, "this mysterious, stoic charm of mine is finally working. One nod from the Saintess? That's progress. Yue Yu walking beside me? That's practically fate."
The old man groaned again and collapsed back.
'I'm never getting revived…' he thought miserably:
'This idiot's going to get himself killed flirting with a female, and I'll die a second death just from shame.'
But Lin Fan continued on, walking tall—hands behind his back, hair tousled just enough to look wild but handsome (in his mind), eyes narrowed as if pondering profound truths.
He even let out a soft sigh, just loud enough for others to hear:
"…So lonely at the top."
No one reacted.
Even Yue Yu didn't blink.
She had long since tuned him out.
From a short distance away, Hei Long still watched this performance unfold with visible amusement.
