"Oh, you're here."
Looking at the boy in front of him with blood-red eyes and a face full of hatred, the Evil Pharmacist smiled nonchalantly, "I knew you would come."
"Doesn't Master owe me an explanation?"
The boy said coldly.
"Explanation? What explanation do you want?"
"Master once promised me that if I won the sect competition and took the position of Chief Disciple, you would tell me Rong'er's background and how to save her father."
The boy gritted his teeth and spoke, anger rising in his eyes.
"Ah, there was such a thing."
The Evil Pharmacist sighed with feigned sorrow, "But heaven's ways are unpredictable, my disciple."
"Who could have predicted that the wealthy man, so frail, though an ordinary person with the Withering Gu, could still last more than ten years."
"So, that Withering Gu was personally planted by Master, wasn't it!?"
The boy questioned word by word, his eyes blood-red, gripping the Longsword at his waist.
"It really wasn't."
