"Thinking about it, it makes sense. Even if you could buy as many sword cultivators as you wanted, could you afford it?"
"Poor bastard."
"..."
Upon hearing this, Chu Xiao's handsome, cold face instantly turned frosty. All his airs of a sword immortal and his aloof self-control vanished in an instant after Pei Lang uttered those two words.
"You good-for-nothing who can only draw scribbles, do you even deserve to comment on my Cloud Misty Sword Sect?" Chu Xiao's voice sounded like it was squeezed out from between his teeth, with a harsh metallic clang.
Pei Lang put his hands on his hips and raised his chin even higher: "What are you babbling about, you poor bastard?"
"???"
Chu Xiao was so angry that his hand gripping the sword trembled. "What are you showing off just because you have a few worthless spirit stones?!"
Pei Lang: "Poor bastard."
Chu Xiao: "You—without the talisman, you're just a good-for-nothing wastrel who can't even utter a peep!"
Pei Lang: "You're a poor bastard."
Chu Xiao: "..."
Chu Xiao felt a tightness in his chest and almost spat out a mouthful of blood.
All the carefully prepared, sharp words that could prove one's strength is superior to the opponent's and belittle the opponent's ancestral privilege seem so pale and powerless in the face of these two simple and crude words.
"Oh."
Suddenly, Chu Xiao chuckled, his cool gaze falling lightly on Pei Lang.
Just as Pei Lang could accurately pinpoint Chu Xiao's weaknesses, Chu Xiao, who had been fighting with Pei Lang since childhood, also knew exactly what he should say to disgust him the most.
Pei Lang.
Chu Xiao curled his lips into a smile: "I don't like you anymore."
...
…………
………………
Pei Lang: "???"
The other cultivators from various sects, who had just arrived at Shen Zhaozhao's stall and were preparing to buy spirit cores, were as follows: "???"
Shen Zhaozhao: "Yo~~"
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