Su Fan took out paper and brush, tossed them to Liu Xiaolou, and said, "Sign it. Once you and I fight, no one can blame anyone else. It'll save Fifth Sister the trouble of coming back to make things difficult for me. But don't worry—I won't kill you. I'll only make you suffer a little."
Liu Xiaolou took it and glanced it over. It was a formal letter of challenge, already signed by Su Fan. He could not help smiling, so he picked up the brush and signed his own name before tucking it into his robes.
Su Fan frowned and demanded, "Give it here."
Liu Xiaolou turned to fetch the Three Xuan Sword from the cart. "This letter of challenge is useful to me. You have no need for it. Wait until I get my sword—"
Su Fan gave a cold sneer. "Heh heh. What exactly are you relying on?" As he spoke, a streak of white light appeared in his palm. Along with it, something like a serpent-soft fork faintly emerged at his side.
He was about to launch a sneak attack from behind Liu Xiaolou when, without warning, a rope that seemed to come from nowhere bound him tight. He immediately felt ninety percent of his acupoints covered. He had very little experience facing enemies; he had planned to ambush someone else, but had not prepared to be ambushed first. Panic seized him in an instant. All he could think of was reaching out to tug at the rope, but how could he possibly pull it loose?
In truth, if he had only calmed down, he would have noticed that although the Xuanzhen Rope covered ninety percent of his acupoints, the remaining ten percent was still enough for his true essence to move about. At most, his