Jian Shichu smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Do you mean to say you concede?"
"..." Qu Jice's face turned the color of pig liver, and he gritted his teeth and said, "Yes, I concede."
Jian Shichu chuckled lightly, "Don't force yourself. If Young Master Qu feels the loss is unjust, we can continue; after all, we have plenty of time to entertain at Xuezhi's birthday celebration."
If it weren't for Qu Jice tearing his face first, saying things like "go to hell," Jian Shichu would not have been so aggressive.
But since Qu Jice had ripped off his own facade, Jian Shichu had no mood to gloss things over.
He had torn his face, hadn't he?
That's good.
Then he might as well be done with it!
Qu Jice felt a surge of blood rushing to his head, almost vomiting blood from the anger.
If he had even a slight chance of winning, he would rush forward and fight Jian Shichu once more.
But Qu Jice knew he didn't stand a chance at all.
