The air is thick.
Mixed with the sweet scent of top-quality aromatherapy and a hint of scrutiny, it was like countless tiny needles pricking Lin Zhou's exposed skin. He was sitting on the priceless Italian leather sofa in the living room of the Su family, his back straight, as if the pride that had been broken in the "accident" two years ago had been restored.
Ridiculous.
Lin Zhou sneered in his heart. For two years, this painful drama has been played out to the point where even he almost believes it. From a cultivation genius who attracted much attention to being reduced to a trash that everyone can step on, this feeling is more bitter than coptis.
The corner of his eye glanced around. The well-dressed relatives of the Su family had undisguised disdain and gloating in their eyes, as if they were looking at a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. Their gazes were hot and thorny, making his skin tingle slightly.
The nails dug deeply into the palms, causing a sharp sting. The faint smell of blood, mixed with the expensive aromatherapy, seemed so out of place. This was his only confirmation that he was still alive.
"Nephew Lin Zhouxian," a voice sounded calmly from the main seat, without any ripples.
Su Zhenguo, the head of the Su family in Binhai City, his future father-in-law. A strong man who had reached the late stage of foundation building looked at Lin Zhou as if he were looking at a useless old thing.
"About your engagement with Wan Qing..." Su Zhenguo paused, picked up the tea cup, and gently blew on the foam, "Our Su family believes that it is best for everyone to postpone it indefinitely."
