Hunter Lang pretended to be anxious and turned his head away, saying vaguely: "I don't like anyone."
"You won't tell me, right?" Lang Qian spread out her ten fingers, admiring the shiny nail polish on her fingertips, and snorted and laughed, "If you don't tell me, I'll stop giving you pocket money."
Hunter Lang really admitted his weakness: "...speak."
"First, is it a human or a demon?" Lang Qian asked the most concerned question. Fearing that Hunter Lang would resist answering, she explained, "Humans have a life span several hundred years different from ours. If he dies in a few decades, you will be the one who will feel sad. You kids don't want to think about such practical questions, so we have to help you think about them. So just answer whatever your mother asks you."
Hunter Lang seemed to be persuaded and began to confess honestly: "It's a demon."
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