Make a Move

Make a Move

Shen Wuxiao shook his head. "You people never keep your word."

"Enough. Someone, feed the Old Master salt!"

After Shen Wuxiao spoke, two men strode forward and shoved Long Dafu and the others aside.

They pinned the lofty Long Qingyuan to the ground and forced his mouth open.

He clamped his mouth shut, only to be met with two hard slaps.

Then a funnel was stuffed into his mouth, pressed against his throat.

A large bowl of fine salt was poured down it.

Afraid he would not be able to swallow it, they even poured tap water down after it.

"Ah!!!" Long Qingyuan was nearly fainting from the agony.

The Long Family martial artists edged forward, but none dared get too close.

Ignoring Long Qingyuan on the ground, Shen Wuxiao raised his hand, ready to give the order for a massacre.

Even the sound of breathing at the scene became rushed.

Quite a few people clenched their fists.

Wang Feifan, however, remained calm and unhurried.

He took out his phone, typed a message, and sent it to his master.

"Your unfilial disciple has failed the grace of your upbringing and disappointed you. Of the four marriage contracts, not one succeeded. Instead, I got a marriage certificate with an old man."

"If your disciple dies today, Master, do not seek revenge. It would be better to live freely like an idle cloud and wild crane. In the next life, Feifan will still be your disciple!"

After sending it, Wang Feifan flung out the Eight Trigrams Sword.

He knew Shen Wuxiao would not let him live.

But the person he most wanted to kill now was not Shen Wuxiao.

It was Kameya Fujita, whose face was quivering like pork.

Once the fighting began, he had to kill him first.