"Stop—" Dai Huabin released Zhu Lu from his embrace and shouted at Huo Yuhao.
Wang Dong'er and Huo Yuhao turned around. Seeing Dai Huabin, Wang Dong'er frowned unhappily. "What do you want?"
Dai Huabin gazed at Wang Dong'er in a daze. As expected of the woman he loved—even her frown was so beautiful. Then he pointed at Huo Yuhao and asked, "Wang Dong'er, are you really willing to spend the rest of your life with this Lung Mist who can't even break through Rank 30?"
Wang Dong'er put her hands on her hips. "Who I choose has nothing to do with you."
Dai Huabin was furious. It would have been one thing before—he couldn't compare to Huo Yuhao's twin top-tier Martial Souls. But now? Why did a Lung Mist like him deserve Wang Dong'er's heart?
But on second thought, Dai Huabin found Wang Dong'er even more charming. Yes, she had liked Huo Yuhao when he was glorious, and now that he had fallen into disgrace, she still refused to leave him. What was that called? Devotion. If he could win her heart, then she would surely be devoted to him as well. Dai Huabin thought smugly.
Then, ignoring Wang Dong'er, Dai Huabin looked at Huo Yuhao. "Yuhao, if you have any self-awareness, leave Wang Dong'er on your own. You're a Lung Mist who'll never break through Rank 30 for the rest of your life, yet you want to be with a heaven-blessed genius like Wang Dong? Why don't you take a piss and look at yourself? With that ugly, rat-faced mug of yours, you think you're worthy?"
Huo Yuhao lowered his head darkly.
Wang Dong'er retorted, "No matter what Yuhao is like, he's still mine. It's not your place to talk. If you've got the guts, let's have a match."