Her hatred was not merely because she had failed to withstand that slash. That slash had been unfair to begin with, and she did not know what medicine she had taken wrong to actually stand there and let someone chop at her with a blade.
What she hated even more was the look in her master's eyes when, before taking that slash, her misgivings had made her somewhat afraid to accept the challenge. Her master's gaze had been so profoundly meaningful. She had made her master look down on her—all because of that big red face before her.
She wished she could smash that face to pulp!
Seeing Hua Meiru lose control so completely, even disregarding her image entirely, Huo Kong frowned and stared at Yuan Gang, who was being brutally whipped yet unable to fight back.
Since beginning his cultivation, he had never seen such hard bones. Not to mention that cultivators from outside had to behave themselves, this was merely an ordinary mortal.
As for whether this humiliated man could still be counted among ordinary mortals, even Huo Kong himself could not make sense of it. Setting everything else aside, if he were the one standing there and forcibly enduring Hua Meiru's attacks, he would not have been able to take it either. Yet how many palms had this Yuan Gang withstood from Hua Meiru? Or had Hua Meiru held back her strength?
He had already been bound like a rice dumpling, yet the hand exposed outside still clutched his blade tightly, trembling with rage.
His neck was still being strangled. He seemed to want to roar in fury, yet could only make hoarse "huh huh" sounds, unable to roar at all.
Huo Kong could feel the other man's boundless unwillingness and unyielding spirit. It was as though