"Kid, you are courting death!"
The people from the Hongdao Association were seething with anger. Yi Yun did not reciprocate them giving him face!
It was because the Hongdao Association appreciated him that they came looking for him. He was a mid-stage Purple Blood rookie, yet Yi Yun turned down their request even when their President personally came. Who did he think he was!
Li Hong's face turned terrifyingly gloomy. He was holding onto a metal cup which had tipped over on the table. With a light press with his fingers, the cup split into pieces. Under his fingers, such a metal, which had not been specially forged, was as weak as paper.
"What did you just say? I did not hear it. Say it again?"
Li Hong smiled at Yi Yun, still with his Maitreya Buddha look. But everyone knew that Li Hong's expression was one of extreme anger.