At this moment, Duan Congxing did not appear as an old man in his seventies or eighties, but rather like a crazed young man in his twenties or thirties.
"Something's off with this old Duan," Mr. Ouyang suddenly frowned and muttered, "Although he's hot-tempered, he shouldn't be like this."
Chu Ge gave Mr. Ouyang a glance, but did not offer an explanation.
Nangong Man Sha watched Duan Congxing with a cold gaze and spoke expressionlessly, "What's wrong, Mr. Duan, do you find my words laughable?"
"Ridiculous, indeed ridiculous." After a while, Duan Congxing finally restrained his laughter and said slowly, "It's me who's ridiculous. I didn't expect to become senile today. Since Ghost Futu has already arrived here, why am I even bothering to talk nonsense with you all?"
"Ghost Futu?" Nangong Man Sha suddenly widened her eyes, as if she recognized the name.
