"Repeat what you just said."
Mo Xianxian's words, cold and merciless, echoed between the mountains and the rivers.
The disciple clad in a black robe couldn't fathom how her mood had suddenly soured.
But well aware of her reputation for being capricious, he quickly pressed his forehead to the ground, his voice trembling as he said, "This subordinate knows his mistake, please punish me, Young Master."
Mo Xianxian's face remained cool, her dark red eyes staring at him like a venomous snake as she spoke softly, "Who told you that he is my beloved consort?"
"That's what everyone in the Holy Sect says."
"Oh."
Mo Xianxian raised her fair hand, and suddenly tightened her grip.
The next moment, the disciple clad in black had his eyes bulging out.
She clutched at the invisible hand squeezing her throat, her mouth agape: "Young, Young Master...spare, spare my life."