Wei Ji folded his arms, his expression calm but his tone a little smug. "I didn't really beat him up," he said casually. "Those were just friendly taps."
He lied so smoothly it almost sounded believable.
To his side, Furer's head jerked violently from left to right, fur bristling in denial. The great black wolf's eyes darted toward Lu Shaohua, as if pleading for her to see the truth. But the moment Wei Ji's cold gaze slid toward him, the beast froze. Its trembling body went still, and then—almost robotically—it began nodding, nodding so fast its ears flapped.
Lu Shaohua blinked, caught off guard. Furer had always been proud and fearless, loyal only to her and aggressive toward anyone else. Even when surrounded by her strongest subordinates, he never showed weakness. Yet now, in front of Wei Ji, the same beast was practically groveling.
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes filled with disbelief. Did young master Han Ji really beat him up that bad?
