"Tower Lord! What's wrong with you?" He Tian's eyes widened as he noticed Lu An's unusual behavior. Concern filled his face, and his voice trembled as he asked, "Is there a senior present?"
Lu An, his expression a mix of seriousness and regret, forced himself to remain composed. With a respectful gesture—a fist and palm salute—he addressed the unseen figure. "I spoke rashly earlier, blinded by my own arrogance. Please, let's not take it to heart. This is all just a misunderstanding..."
"A misunderstanding?" The voice responded, calm yet sharp, like a blade slicing through pretense. "It seems you left something unsaid before deciding to call it that."
At these words, both Lu An and He Tian froze as understanding hit them. They had completely overlooked something critical—their own disciples were still hunting down the genius cultivator.