Peng Shizhong glanced at the old beggar, a glint of icy coldness flashing in his eyes, yet his face still bore a deceitful smile, "Ha ha, if I didn't come, wouldn't that imply that our White Tiger Hall is scared of you?"
"Ah, Old Peng, what are you talking about? To befriend through martial arts, why harbor such resentment?"
Peng Shizhong grimaced, "No resentment? Why then did so many disciples from my hall die in vain? And also my Fourth Brother!"
The old beggar said, "Ah, Old Peng, I admit, it's our Beggar Sect's doing that your disciples died, but your adoptive son, Deng Guangming, wasn't killed by our sect."
"Hmph, if not you, then who?"
The old beggar answered, "That I don't know, but we of the Beggar Sect take responsibility for what we do, and absolutely do not admit to what we haven't done. Besides, we're already on opposing sides; why would I lie to you?"
