'Trying to cut in?'
Song Wanning's gaze darkened. Her hands moved faster, quickly plucking the fruit and placing it into her Storage Ring.
She then pulled the Moonlit Mountain Flower up by its roots and tossed it toward the approaching figure.
THWAP—
The flower landed right in front of the man, a silent provocation that completely ignited his rage.
"How dare you mock me?"
The man stopped mid-air, his face flushing red with fury.
His eyes were filled with sullen anger.
When he got a clear look at Song Wanning, he snorted coldly. "So you're from the Ancient Cold Sect. No wonder you're so arrogant."
With that, he took another step forward, his voice dripping with menace.
"Are you going to hand it over, or am I going to take it from you?"
A silent, formless killing intent flowed out. It seemed that if Song Wanning so much as said the word "no," he would cast her into a state of eternal damnation.
"Heh."
