Jiuxian's handsome face turned sharply: "Nan! Wu! Shang!"
The voice sounded as if it wanted to chew and swallow those three words.
“Yes, it’s me.” Nan Wushang pulled at the net rope, revealing his face: “I have a use for those people, so don’t kill them yet.”
"Is that so?" Jiuxian glanced at him, raised her sword and brought it down. The three men fell to the ground with a thud, dead beyond any doubt.
"You—" Nan Wushang was so angry that smoke was coming out of his head: "You're asking for death."
With a flick of his wrist, the poison floated out. However, remembering his promise to Luo Xi, he didn't kill her, only administering his own specially made muscle-relaxing powder.
Jiuxian had only taken two steps back when his arms and legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground like a pancake.
The assassins from the Red Mansion, who had been hiding in the shadows, were stunned when they saw this and rushed over in a panic. But as soon as they got close, they all fell down with a few thuds.
Nine Strings: "..."
"Idiot!" he spat out coldly.
Nan Wushang, who had just emerged from the net, laughed heartily: "You really are quite stupid, just like your master."
The assassins wished they could disappear into a hole in the ground.
Jiuxian simply closed his eyes.
Nan Wushang, however, had no intention of letting it go so easily. He walked over, dragged Jiuxian up, threw him onto a chair, and slapped his face hard: "You blockhead, I've already told you I have a use for you, are you deaf?"
When dealing with Nan Wushang, Jiuxian had learned from his previous capture that he should ignore whatever Nan Wushang was doing.
"Fine, you're pretending to be a blockhead again, huh?" Seeing that he was ignoring him, Nan Wushang stopped talking, walked to the desk, and soon came back with a brush, and started smearing paint on his face.
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