Zhu Jianshen was taken aback.
He didn't understand what Jiang Fan meant.
Staring at the slightly blood-stained bundle, he couldn't help but laugh: "You can't be saying that this contains the head of the Sub-Altar Master, can you? Hahaha!"
He had seen with his own eyes as the No.1 Shadow Guard beheaded the Sub-Altar Master.
Unless Jiang Fan was the No.1 Shadow Guard.
Otherwise, where would the head come from?
Jiang Fan leisurely sat down, picked up a bowl of tea, and remained expressionless.
The implication was, couldn't he see for himself?
Zhu Jianshen's smile deepened, laughing heartily: "Alright, since you won't cry until you see the coffin, let me do you a favor."
"Come, let's take a look at that head."
"Let's see what kind of head Young Master Jiang has prepared to fool us."
"Could it be made of mud?"
Hahaha!
His followers couldn't help but burst into laughter.