Slap!
Ling Xiao easily grabbed the incoming cold light with his hand—it was a three-inch-long Flying Dagger, crafted from meticulously selected materials. On the handle, a "Phoenix" character was etched.
This Flying Dagger, besides the material, was almost identical to the one Wu Xiang had given to Ling Xiao.
A hint of coldness flashed in Ling Xiao's eyes as he toyed with the Flying Dagger in his hand and said, "Miss, isn't lashing out like this a bit too rude and vicious?"
The girl sneered, "Trash should just obediently remain trash. Don't see yourselves as real people, or the consequences will only get nastier than this."
Hearing the girl's words, Ling Xiao's gaze turned even colder. They were complete strangers, and yet she was demanding a life over some trivial matter.
Not only that, but she also kept calling others trash.
Probably anyone would find such treatment unbearable.