If he didn't know, he didn't know. Wei Mo saw no need to pretend otherwise and said bluntly, "What he did isn't important. Taking first place is all that matters."
Chi Rang did not like hearing that. He retorted sarcastically, "Are you saying even rebellion would be acceptable?"
"You're just being contrary," Wei Mo said. "Whether they robbed or cheated, by that stage of the tournament, it no longer mattered. Your Mystic Continent Forces could murder and rob people, so what was a little swindling by comparison? If the Marquis weren't here, I wouldn't waste my breath arguing with you. Aren't you afraid people will laugh when word gets out?"
After that, no matter how unwilling Chi Rang was to accept it, Wei Mo held fast to one point: if rules really had been broken, which was the greater offense-the Mystic Continent Forces' wholesale murder and robbery, or the Life Continent forces' swindling?
In truth, none of this was worth discussing. Chi Rang simply refused to accept defeat.
The Right Assistant Marquis, who oversaw the tournament, might have been awake or asleep; it was impossible to tell. Seeing that neither man could win the argument, he waited until they had quarreled enough, then threw them both out.
Once outside the gates, Chi Rang gave Wei Mo no pleasant looks. He swept his sleeve and left, flying straight off Immortal Mountain, his unwillingness to accept the result plain to see.
Wei Mo, his hands resting over his belly, merely smiled faintly and took it in stride. As far as he was concerned, he had only gone through the motions.
He knew perfectly well that the people running the betting pools had dared to act as bookmakers because they believed they could influence the tournament's course and steer its outcome. They had