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"Senior," said Meng Fuyao, as she spat her broken tooth that was engulfed in a mouthful of blood and saliva on Zhan Nancheng's face. Using his robe embroidered with golden dragons and drifting clouds to wipe her mouth, she continued to smile as she added, "Please think carefully. I won't be able to beat you, but with my ability, as long as I'm not afraid of death, it isn't too difficult for me to keep him a hostage. Even if you kill me, I will drag him to death as well. I'll let him understand what it means to be unlucky."

"What for?" The woman perched herself on the ceiling, frowned down at Meng Fuyao and asked, "Is it worth it? Why?"