"Hmm?"
Ming Ye sensed something odd in his tone and was momentarily taken aback. He quickly suppressed the strangeness in his heart and said, "I can help you."
Lou Yan slowly straightened up, then let out a soft, relaxed laugh, his voice light and cheerful, "Why do some people always assume that the Demon Lord can suppress me, and I must do whatever it takes to get this position?"
He paused, stood from the chair, and gently brushed away a few wrinkles on his sleeve. His white robe seemed to glow, casting light on a face too alluring for a god, too ethereal for a demon, impossible to define. "But you are right, I should be a Demon Lord."
Ming Ye became more and more confused.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Lou Yan slowly raised his hands and brought his palms together, each clap unhurried and steady.
In the seemingly gentle movement, there was an invisible wave that pierced through the void and disappeared without a trace.
