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"I just remembered," Li Xiaofei said, his tone suddenly cold. "You may not have hurt or killed anyone, but… didn’t you just threaten me?"
"What do you want?" Kong Weilan’s grip on his sword tightened once again. The veins on his hand bulged as his anger and shame simmered beneath the surface.
"It’s simple," Li Xiaofei replied, "Apologize."
Kong Weilan exhaled in relief. Without hesitation, he said, "I’m sorry."
Saying "sorry" was difficult for someone like him. But after standing by helplessly as his father died before his eyes, what was there left to endure? After swallowing that humiliation, what was an apology but another bitter sip from an already poisoned cup?
Li Xiaofei shook his head.
"That’s not how you apologize," he said, his gaze piercing through the self-proclaimed endurance of the quasi-Saint before him. "Kneel."
Thud.
Kong Weilan dropped to his knees in the mud. The sound of rain splattered against the earth as Li...



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