"No, you are a dog," the Fusang Sword Saint said coldly.
Hai Zhong was stunned. He had thought that groveling before the Fusangs would make them treat him better. Little did he know that the traitors of old had thought the same way. He was even more clueless to the fact that groveling wouldn't earn him their respect, but only their utter contempt.
"You refuse to be my dog? Fine, then I'll let him kill you," the Fusang Sword Saint said indifferently.
Wang Congming glared furiously at Hai Zhong.
Panicked, Hai Zhong scrambled to say to the Fusang Sword Saint, "Fusang oppa, I'm your fan! I… I'm your dog, too!"
Angry shouts, thick with tension, erupted from the crowd. Whether they were martial practitioners or government officials, the people of Dragon Country were all grinding their teeth in rage.
"Hai Zhong, just get out of Dragon Country!"
"You're a disgrace to our people!"
"Utterly shameless!"
