"Young brother, they're after me. Let them come over!" Zhuu Shu smiled helplessly, never expecting to survive such a long fall from the sky without being killed.
This life had already been lost once, and Zhuu Shu was not afraid of death, nor did he wish to implicate the youth.
Beiting Huang was taken aback for a moment and looked down at Zhuu Shu. His icy gaze was filled with thick scorn and disdain. He had thought Zhuu Shu was a man who, like Mo Li, had self-respect and self-love, but apparently, he was someone so self-deprecating.
"I've seen those who are not afraid of death," Beiting Huang tilted his chin toward the cliffside, "but never someone who delivers their own life into the hands of another. Do you want to die that much? If so, crawl over there yourself and jump from this height. The drop of thousands of feet is enough to take your life."
