An angry voice suddenly appeared in the air.
Ye Han.
It’s Ye Han again.
Ye Han frowned slightly.
He only remembered that his name was Wu Han, and that his life and name were given by the autumn flute.
There was not a single thing about ye Han in his memory.
Why did everyone call him ye Han?
Why?
Did he forget something?
Ye Han felt his temples swell and ache, and it was very uncomfortable.
Hearing this, Qiu Di stood up from the chair and looked around, but did not see anyone.
Qiu Di narrowed his eyes. “Who? Who’s playing tricks there?”
The air fell into silence.
It was as if nothing had happened.
“Who is it?”Qiu Di asked again.
Still, no one answered.
Ye Han also felt that it was a little strange. He took out the emei thorn and prepared to defend against the enemy.
One second, two seconds, still no one answered in the air.
In a moment, ye Han turned on his portable radar and scanned the room, but did not find any suspicious people.