Xiao Qibo, who had originally felt as though he had been slapped hard across the face, returned to normal and said, "It really was worth it. At least he used his worthless life to save Captain Hua's life. I won't blame him anymore for getting me injured."
Xiao Qibo greatly agreed with Old Ling, the steward. Sikong Jing had merely acted on impulse to play the hero and save the beauty.
In any case, he would definitely have died upon encountering three assassins. Forgiving a dead man was no big deal. Xiao Qibo was still a magnanimous man.
Watching Xiao Qibo and Old Ling go back and forth—
The disgust in Hua Meixi's heart surged to its peak. One kept insisting that Sikong Jing had been dead weight—dead weight, my ass...
If Sikong Jing was dead weight, then what the hell was Xiao Qibo?
The other kept saying Sikong Jing was already dead. If Sikong Jing had truly been in danger, would she have left the formation?
The two of them knew nothing, yet they were crazily looking down on Sikong Jing. If they weren't disgusting, then who was?
"Both of you, shut up! Old Ling, I order you to close the formation right now." Unable to listen any longer, Weng Ting suddenly shouted.
Yet Old Ling remained unmoved and said, "Miss, Captain Hua herself said that Sikong Jing was surrounded by three assassins. He must already be dead. What difference does it make whether we close the formation now or not?"
"Exactly. We can't close the formation now, or the assassins will get away." Xiao Qibo nodded heavily.
Weng Ting's expression was cold to the extreme as she said in a frosty voice, "This is a matter of life and death. Perhaps Sikong Jing hasn't been killed by the