Hua Cheng had also turned around, still with that half-eaten bun in his hand. He gave it a playful toss, then casually took a bite out of it, his gaze locked on Xie Lian as he did so.
Lang Qianqiu said. “Even though a ghost king is no saint, the fact that he went easy on you must mean that he sees you as a friend. And one should never deceive a friend.”
another boy whose face was wrapped in bandages, dirty and unkempt; he was kneeling on the floor hugging a plate of offerings, his head bowed low as he stuffed his face.
His tone was a little harsh, as if he couldn’t listen anymore, and he abruptly turned around. “Did you forget that my blade wounded your arm? I hurt you, not the other way around. Why should you have to repay me?”
Before he could finish, Qi Rong’s own sight went dark again, and his cheek exploded in agony as he spewed blood from his mouth—he got himself socked again! However, this punch wasn’t from Hua Cheng, it was from Xie Lian.