"Thank you? Forget it! Just don't bother me again in the future!"
Hong Qitian didn't even lift his eyelids and picked up the teacup.
Fang Qingyu smiled, said no more, put the empty wooden box back on the table, turned, and left the Martial Arts Hall in large strides.
As he walked out of the ancient street, the bustling atmosphere of the city hit him in the face.
Fang Qingyu hailed a taxi at the street corner and gave the address of the building.
The car merged into the traffic, and Fang Qingyu leaned back in the rear seat, feeling unprecedentedly relaxed.
Hong Qitian, although harsh with words, was indeed straightforward in action.
After completing an almost impossible task, he handed over his treasured item without a second thought.
This crisp and neat style was very much to Fang Qingyu's liking.
However, Hong Qitian's last seemingly impatient reminder echoed clearly like a warning bell in Fang Qingyu's heart:
