In an instant, Murong Chu said, "Disciple, you've killed all my people. Shouldn't you stop now?"
Looking at the corpses, Murong Chu's tone suddenly turned cold.
"Your people are dead. Do you look angry?"
Zi Moye was proud of Murong Chu, his tone filled with vitality and humanity.
"I dare not! The so-called Chu Country, it's just blame myself, not my son, brother!"
Murong Chu held back his anger, clenching his fists tightly.
"Since you're not angry, what are you still doing here? Get lost."
Zi Mo also turned his face, no longer looking at Murong Chu. His voice was blatant.
Murong Chu nodded, his face as gloomy as a waterway. "We'll meet again later!"
Having said that, Murong Chu immediately walked out, then left coldly.
"Hmph! That's great!"
Watching Murong Chu leave, Zi Mo couldn't help but snort.
In the distance, Murong Chu also heard this disdainful rebuke.
His face turned pale, his nails were hurt by anger, but he didn't realize it.
