"Thank you for your concern, Seventh Prince. I, Yun Tong, am just a Loose Cultivator, unaffiliated with any sect or clan," Nie Yun said quickly, feigning flattered astonishment.
"Unaffiliated? A Loose Cultivator? Excellent, excellent! Qii Yang, I see you don't value this man, so I'll take him!" the Seventh Prince said, looking at Qii Yang.
"Ordinarily, if the Seventh Prince were to ask for one of my men, I would hand him over without a second thought. However, this man is not my subordinate. For one, I cannot command him. For two, he has offended me and must be killed! Only then can I quell the hatred in my heart. Surely the Seventh Prince has no use for a dead man!"
Qii Yang snorted coldly. His face, once pale and exhausted from his grave injuries, had already regained its color. He must have used some special means to recover.
