The lively Qin Country Palace, in Si Mo's cold eyes, seemed to have turned into a land of corpses. Sensing the murderous intent on his master, Gu Ya tightly clenched the sword hilt in his hand.
"Mu Xiong, why aren't you going on stage yet? Quite the big attitude, huh!"
"Don't rush, young Mu Xiong has barely learned the basics, thinking about what he wants to perform."
"Young Mu Xiong, why don't I give you a suggestion. First, perform how you cling to our Prince Rui like a leech, then perform how you took five hundred elite soldiers to the battlefield, all dead except for you. How about that?"
He Cheng's voice, as if tempered with poison, recklessly uttered these words. He didn't care that his words offended not only Mu Qingge alone.
It seemed, he just wanted to provoke Mu Qingge, like last time, put her on stage, let her embarrass herself, and hopefully anger the Holy King, be slapped into a pulp, thus easing the hatred in his heart.
