Yang Fan said without blushing or panting, "Master, how could that be? I found myself a foot-scraping big guy."
"Cut the crap, a foot-scraping big guy could produce such piano sound? You're fooling ghosts here?"
Yang Fan chuckled, "Master, your discerning eye sees every detail. Indeed, the piano music you just heard was played by a woman!"
"Forget it, I can't control you from afar. Just handle it yourself." Han Yi'an hung up the phone.
Yang Fan held his phone, his face full of helplessness. Why was it that he seemed to be getting more childlike as he grew older?
These past few days, Yang Fan's life had been quite leisurely; every three days, Tang Zimo earnestly played the sheet music for the Heavenly Sound Heart Clearing Mantra for him, each time for half an hour, no more, no less.
Gradually, Yang Fan felt the evil force that once filled his body dissipating bit by bit.