The passage is too narrow to hide anywhere. Pang Libin's fierce aura pauses in midair, his power suddenly diminishes. Mu Qianyue slightly tilts her head to the left, and her mask is conveniently torn off, as is the jade crown binding her hair. Her long black hair dances in the gentle light, strand by strand.
Opposite her, Pang Libin's face turns dark green. His breath is chaotic and labored, as if thousands of ants are gnawing inside his body. His head feels like it's splitting; he wishes he could just slam it against the wall. Even so, as a Fourth Rank King Martial Artist, he controls himself, raises his head, and in a hoarse and furiously astonished voice asks, "Despicable! You actually poisoned me!"
"I've heard that accusation countless times. You're not the first, nor will you be the last." Mu Qianyue looks at him with icy cold eyes. Is she despicable for poisoning? Then aren't they despicable for outnumbering the weak and bullying the feeble?
