Although Tan Xiucheng was filled with despair, he still mustered all his strength to beg for mercy. "Lord, what I just said... was truly unintentional. I didn't mean it. Please, Lord, forgive me!"
Shen Lang gave him an indifferent glance, then gently tugged on the Silver-haired Immortal Venerable's snow-white sleeve, pulling at it coquettishly. "Master... spare him, won't you? He knows he was wrong."
Changfan lowered his gaze to her, his eyes deep. "If I hadn't appeared, would you have agreed to his proposal?"
"How would I dare?" Shen Lang chuckled. "Besides, I'm not fond of his childish type."
The coldness in Changfan's eyes finally softened a little.
Shen Lang decided to strike while the iron was hot, raising her wrist, as fair as snow, for him to see. "Look, I got frostbite from Mo Ya Pond, and it still hasn't healed. My senior sister said you killed that vicious beast... was it for me?"
