The words shook Xu Guangmao for a long time before he came back to his senses. He couldn't help but feel that these words were a bit arrogant, but after glancing at the two stiff corpses beside him, ten breaths ago, they had still been highly skilled in martial arts and heartless criminals of the Northwest.
Arrogance with a reason.
He struggled to stand up and gave a deep bow with clasped hands to the black-clad youth, saying:
"Cough, cough, I am Zhao Wumao. Thank you for saving my life, mighty hero. As a mere vagabond of the Jianghu, I have nothing to offer to thank the hero. If there are any errands, I am at your service and will surely promote your heroic name."
After saying this, he deeply bowed again, speaking earnestly and sincerely.
Wang Anfeng looked at the man before him, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting, then composed his expression, flicked the hilt of the knife lightly with his fingers, making a light sound and said blandly:
