Unfortunately, he came for Ning Feiyan and, not having received the soothing he had anticipated, Mi Lu was like a raging lion, unable to vent his anger and thus could only take it out on Hong Zhuang.
"You lowly wretch! Just looking at your face completely turns my stomach! I heard that an Enchanting Demon was initially destined to be the Young Princess Consort of our tribe, which is laughably absurd! Have you even looked in the mirror at that sorry state of yours? What makes you think you're worthy of my bed?"
Mi Lu was thoroughly disgusted by the face before him. He thought about how she was originally going to be the candidate for his consort, and if it hadn't been for this thing delaying things, Ning Feiyan would have been his long ago.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He swung his steel whip, raising a Gale, its angle maliciously aimed at Hong Zhuang's lower back in a fierce lash.
Inside the hall, a sharp cat-like cry suddenly rang out.
