All the disciples were as silent as a cicada in winter when they saw their Master enraged. They all stood there timidly with their heads lowered and did not dare to utter a sound.
Only a cold and crisp voice rang out. "She's so stupid, so she might not figure it out even after 100 years. Do you want her to reflect until her death by throwing her to some Duan-something Cliff?"
Everyone: "…"
No one could win against Little Junior Sister's silver tongue. She either stayed silent the whole day like a sealed gourd or she sent everyone spiraling into depression with her biting words and made people wish for nothing more than to find a hole to burrow into in their shame.
Murong Xun turned to her little disciple with a crushed expression and held her hand. "Can't you comfort me, your master, some?"
Qiao Mu shook her head. "If she wasn't your disciple, I would've had 100 methods to make her dead in three breaths."
