Jiangli hummed listlessly.
Xia Xin couldn't help but glance at Jiangli, feeling that the ancient ancestor's spirits seemed unusually low today, as if doing anything was too much effort.
Rather concerned, Xia Xin asked, "Ancient Ancestor, are you feeling unwell? Do you have a cold or a fever?"
Jiangli gave him a glance and scoffed lightly, "Do I look like someone who gets sick?"
Xia Xin: "..."
At first glance, no, but had you forgotten about your severe injury eight hundred years ago?
Seeing Jiangli's unconcerned face, which truly did not seem like that of someone ill, Xia Xin dismissed the thought.
Indeed.
Even the weakest ancient ancestor was stronger than them; it was unlikely that he would fall ill so suddenly.
Thus, Xia Xin stopped suspecting and simply said to Jiangli, "If you feel any discomfort, just tell me."
Jiangli hummed indifferently and leaned against the car window, his eyes closed as if he were still sleepy or had fallen asleep again.
