Mo Zhao did not expect Gu Xijiu to be so direct toward him. Soon, he laughed. "All right! Whoever runs is a coward! Xijiu, I will make sure you know my strength." He had decided to take her down forcibly this time by making her his woman. If he could never get her heart, he could at least have her body.
He wanted to see her suffer in tears. He would rather have her destroyed if he could not have her.
He opened up his palm to summon his weapon; a blood-red sword formed immediately in his hand.
The edge of his sword was flaming, but its effect was cold. Immediately after its emergence, there came a loud, wailing scream from its ferocious evil spirits. The glacier, which had been actively streaming for tens of thousands of years, froze immediately when the sword appeared. The coldness was unbearable, as though piercing through Gu Xijiu's skin.