There was deep doubt and confusion between Luo Shang's brows. She walked slowly towards Song Jiao, her voice filled with caution and inquiry: "Lin Feng, did you do what happened to Song Huaiyu?" Her eyes were like searchlights, trying to find a clue from Song Jiao's expression.
The recent confrontations and conversations have made Luo Shang deeply suspicious of Song Jiao.
She really couldn't understand what the man in front of her was trying to do. His behavior patterns and words revealed an elusive complexity.
Luo Shang's intuition told her that Song Jiao knew from the beginning that Song Huaiyu had something important, and she also knew what it was.
This intuition was so strong that Luo Shang couldn't ignore it, she had to get to the bottom of it.
"What exactly does Song Huaiyu have on him?" Luo Shang's voice was filled with a hint of anxiety.
Song Jiao just smiled faintly, with a cunning glint in her eyes, "Guess!" She deliberately kept it a secret so that Luo Shang couldn't figure it out.
Luo Shang was choked. Did this guy do this on purpose?
She clearly knew what she was asking, but she still pretended to be confused.
Luo Shang felt a sense of frustration, but at the same time, she became more determined to find out the truth.
Song Jiao glanced at Luo Shang lazily, seeming to enjoy the feeling of being in control of the situation. "Why don't you go and see it yourself and know? But I guess you can't see the existence of that thing." There was a hint of provocation in her tone, as if hinting to Luo Shang that some things were beyond her reach.
Luo Shang immediately became interested, her curiosity was completely aroused, "What on earth is it?" she asked, with a determined light in her eyes.
She had to figure out what was so tempting that made Song Jiao go to such great lengths.
However, Song Jiao did not give her any more clues. She just smiled mysteriously and turned away.
Luo Shang stood there, watching Song Jiao's back gradually walking away, but the doubts in her heart became stronger and stronger.
From that day on, Luo Shang followed Song Huaiyu every day. As the only daughter of the Luo family, she would not miss any opportunity to become stronger.
Song Jiao's life is now easy and comfortable. Apart from trying to snatch the male lead's opportunities every day, she is busy watching the show.
Her cultivation had already become top-notch in the sect, allowing her to navigate this world with ease.
After practicing every day, she began to enjoy the pleasure of watching the show.
Just like now, Song Huaiyu was knocked unconscious again.
Several fellow disciples took the opportunity to search for something on his body, but before they found what they wanted, they suddenly fainted one after another.
Immediately afterwards, Luo Shang appeared in Song Jiao's sight.
She walked towards Song Huaiyu and began to search his entire body carefully.
Her gaze finally fell on Song Huaiyu's finger, where there was a ring that looked very old.
After observing for a few seconds, Luo Shang took off the ring without hesitation and put it on her finger.
At this moment, a white-haired old man suddenly appeared in front of her.
He glared at Luo Shang and asked sternly, "What are you doing?" Luo Shang was interrupted by this sudden conversation. She was stunned for a moment, then looked up at the white-haired old man.
"The treasure on Song Huaiyu's body, it can't be you, right?" Luo Shang asked tentatively, her heart full of doubts.
She didn't know whether she had strayed into some unknown area, and what secrets this ring was hiding.
The white-haired old man did not answer her question immediately, but just stared at her with deep eyes.
Luo Shang felt an inexplicable pressure coming over her, but the spiritual pressure was not too strong. She guessed it might be because the other party was a spirit.
She was not intimidated by the pressure, but instead walked forward step by step with determination.
She looked at the white-haired old man with cold eyes, and her voice was filled with unquestionable majesty: "It seems that there is something. Come with me! Or choose to be destroyed?" She gave the choice directly without any hesitation.
The white-haired old man looked at Song Huaiyu lying on the ground, and a trace of worry flashed in his eyes.
Then he looked up at Luo Shang again. He felt the powerful strength of this girl and knew that he probably didn't have much choice.
In the end, he could only nod helplessly and said in a hoarse voice: "I'll go with you, but you can't hurt him." He pointed at Song Huaiyu who was lying on the ground, his eyes full of earnestness.
Luo Shang looked at Song Huaiyu with disdain, then nodded, "I'm not interested in him." Her gaze returned to the white-haired old man, waiting for his next move.
Song Jiao was stunned watching from the side. She suddenly felt that this old man had changed his mind too quickly. Wasn't he a little reserved?
Put on a "I won't go with you!" scene and then be threatened? She shook her head, muttering to herself, this old man's acting is really poor.
Now is the perfect time to bring people to see the show, let’s go.
Soon, Song Huaiyu suddenly woke up, his eyes wide open, as if they were about to burst out of his sockets.
He raised his hand and instantly found his fingers empty; the precious ring was gone. Anger and despair burned like a raging fire, instantly devouring his sanity.
He suddenly leaped up and grabbed the long sword beside him. The sword instantly trembled and made a buzzing sound, as if echoing the rage in his heart. He looked around and saw his fellow disciples who were still unconscious, with ferocious smiles on their faces.
"You bastards!" He roared, and his sword instantly transformed into a bolt of lightning, fiercely slashing at one of his fellow disciples. With a "puff", the sword pierced the man's body, and blood gushed out, staining the surrounding ground red.
Those people were awakened by the severe pain and looked at Song Huaiyu in horror, as if they saw the god of death coming.
They wanted to escape, but their bodies were bound by pain and fear, unable to move.
Song Huaiyu's sword was like the scythe of the god of death, flying around them, taking away a piece of flesh and blood with every swing.
"Ah--" Screams rang out one after another, and the air was filled with a strong smell of blood.
"Where's the ring? Hand it over and I'll let you go."
Those people were forced to retreat again and again by Song Huaiyu, their bodies were covered with bruises and bleeding profusely.
Their eyes were filled with fear and despair, as if they had already seen their own death.
"We didn't see any ring, really! We didn't take the ring."
Song Huaiyu seemed not to hear their pleas for mercy and screams. The smile on his face became more ferocious, and the sword in his hand swung more and more rapidly.
Until he exhausted his last bit of strength, the sword flew out of his hand and stuck heavily into the ground.
He looked at his fellow disciples lying on the ground, their bodies already dying and bloody, and his heart was filled with twisted pleasure.
At this moment, the door was pushed open, and the elders and the headmaster saw Song Huaiyu covered in blood and his disciples who had been killed.
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