Lai Bao's expression grew increasingly ugly, it seemed Hua Zi's matter could no longer be concealed.
After listening to Dao Batou's words, the two men stared at her with four eyes, and Lai Bao threw down the knife in her hand, "I don't know anything."
Mu Qian broke through the silence, "You don't not know, you just don't want to say."
Lai Bao stopped talking, and the two men no longer pressed her.
"Young Master Ding, leave the ghost-catching to you."
Mu Qian stood up, hands comfortably in his coat pockets, walked past Ding Chenmo, and his thin red lips outlined a cold sneer, "Oh, I forgot, Young Master Ding's Evil Slayer Sword seems to be out of use, do you want me to lend you one? I have plenty of good stuff from the Mystic Sect."
Ding Chenmo's handsome features were tinged with anger, yet his voice was unusually calm, "One day, I will personally kill you, this backstabbing traitor, to comfort the wronged souls of my Mystic Sect who died tragically."
"I'm waiting."
