The phone call fell into a long silence.
After a while, Zhao Lang's voice came through the receiver again, "You know everything?"
Jiang Li gave a noncommittal "Hmm," "At first, I really didn't suspect this room, but too much has happened recently—it's hard not to be suspicious, so I did a little divination."
Zhao Lang cleared his throat, "I didn't mean to keep it from you; it's just that on my end—"
"I know," Jiang Li cut him off, "Everyone has their secrets. I don't have a habit of prying into others' privacy. If you don't want to talk about it, let it be."
Zhao Lang deliberately let out a sigh, "Sometimes, your understanding makes you seem cold and distant."
Jiang Li: ".....Still, I have to thank you; I'll keep the Shariputra and Golden Sand."
"Tch, you're really quite unreserved."
"Want them back?"