Seeing Shuisheng in such a miserable state, Zhang Yuan couldn't help but feel a surge of anger.
Although Zhang Yuan didn't regard Shuisheng as his apprentice,
he had a strong admiration for this diligent, hardworking, and clever young man.
In Shuisheng, Zhang Yuan saw many reflections of his own life.
He hadn't anticipated that the other party would suffer such an undeserved disaster!
His eyes flashed, and he softly spoke to the rugged man with a bristly beard seated in the main seat, "Name your price."
Inside the room, there were more than a dozen people, all with fierce auras and menacing faces, clearly the type who live by the sword; most were Tier One and Tier Two Martial Artists.
Moreover, Zhang Yuan was also aware that outside the house, more people armed with knives and swords were lying in ambush.
The rugged man with a bristly beard sitting on the tiger-skin chair was the strongest among them all—at the pinnacle of Tier Three!
