C541 Disgusting!
With a flourish, the golden rod danced toward Ye Qinghui once again.
It was a dance, indeed—a dance of futility.
Each attempt to strike was a failure, an onslaught with the force of a feather.
What was there to discuss, really?
Jin Sanpiao nonchalantly tossed the rod aside, fixing his gaze intently on Ye Qinghui.
Ye Qinghui simply shrugged.
He was indifferent to the other's stare
