"Hahaha!" Hong Zhong's laughter echoed incessantly beside Li Huowang. "A Xinsu! Li Huowang, hahaha!"
Li Huowang held a cup in his hand, sitting there dumbfounded. He stared at the half-corpse in Tuoba Danqing's hands—at the dead man's head and the attached internal organs dangling below.
After a long pause, Li Huowang's eyes gradually widened, a look of shock slowly creeping across his face. "So this is... a Xinsu..."
Under the table, his fists clenched tight, yet his expression remained unchanged.
The drunken Tuoba Danqing, satisfied with Li Huowang's astonished expression, said with a hint of pride, "How's that? Haven't seen one before, have you? I won't lie to you, this is the first time I've seen a living Xinsu myself!"
Trembling, Li Huowang reached out and gently touched the Xinsu's face with his fingertips.
It was a middle-aged man with a square face, a full beard, and looked to be around forty years old.
