Allen Ju spoke up.
Everyone saw Allen Ju, battered and miserable from the clash of qi, staggering to his feet from the ground.
He braced himself with both hands on the ground, where a small puddle of water still hadn't dried.
His clothes were covered in dust, looking utterly disheveled—downright miserable.
"Still not planning to talk?"
Night Summer looked at Allen Ju's condition, a little displeased. "Nightstar has always been reasonable in how we do things."
"You can call your friend over. We can talk face to face."
"If, at the Southern Court Club that day, it was really our side that acted out of line, we'll apologize, no problem."
"But the way you're insisting on shielding your friend behind you—don't you think it's kind of ridiculous?"
Night Summer finished speaking.
Night Winter spoke coldly: "Why bother talking to him?"
After he finished speaking, he waved his hand forward, sending a burst of qi that blasted Allen Ju away once again.
Allen Ju tumbled through the air, landing with a thud right in front of the Ju patriarch's seat.
Why not just say it?
Chase Ju looked at Allen Ju's condition, feeling deeply satisfied. "Nightstar's people are roughing you up, and you can still stand—only because they're holding back."
But if they really get angry, you could lose your life.
Allen Ju, are you really not afraid of dying?
As Chase Ju spoke, he walked forward a few steps, stopping in front of Allen Ju.
He lowered his head and looked at Allen Ju sprawled by his feet, feeling the urge to stomp on him—but in the end, he held back.
Whether I'm afraid of dying or not—what's it got to do with you?