The heavy doors thudded shut behind the last elder, leaving only the three of them in the vast, echoing hall: Fang Yuan, the eighteen-year-old Fang Mei radiating nervous curiosity, and her adopted father, Fang Chen, rooted to the spot.
Lin Zhaoyue had slipped away with surprising swiftness, Du Juan and Fang Jingyi in tow, likely already heading to Pill King Tushan's disciple.
Fang Yuan blinked at Fang Chen.
"Uncle? What are you still doing here? Don't you have…" He trailed off, genuinely perplexed. Did the man forget where the door was?
"Ah! Wait!" Fang Chen blurted, shifting his weight. His eyes darted between Fang Yuan and Mei. "I thought… I thought you wanted me to tell her. About… her origin."
Fang Yuan's brow furrowed. "Huh? What?"
Genuine confusion painted his features.
Fang Mei's head snapped towards her father, her earlier nervousness replaced by intense, wide-eyed focus.
