Those words struck a nerve with Xie Anjun.
His face flushed red and veins bulged on his forehead. He lunged forward and grabbed Fan Chengzhuo by the collar. "Fan! What did you just say?!"
Fan Chengzhuo was completely unfazed. He met his gaze and sneered, "What? Did I hit a nerve, and now you're lashing out in shame? You don't really believe they follow you out of genuine admiration, do you?"
"You!"
Xie Anjun shoved him away, took a deep breath, and forced himself to suppress his rage.
"I'm not going to argue with you right now! He's your nephew, after all. If you want to save him, fine! But on one condition—neither of us gets implicated! If we both get dragged down by this… it'll be too late for regrets when you're standing on the execution grounds!"
Fan Chengzhuo was furious as well, but he knew that right now, Xie Anjun was the only person he could turn to.
