Despite Zhang Xiaoyun's harsh scolding, Fan Qi, who stood beside Zhan Lang, remained silent. He had now completely accepted his position. He knew he was nothing but a dog by Zhan Lang's side, having even cast aside the dignity a man should have. So why would he care about Zhang Xiaoyun's insult?
"A charming woman with spirit, my favorite kind," Zhan Lang said with desperate eagerness in his gaze as he stared at Zhang Xiaoyun. "You've got a great figure and pretty face. I, Zhan Lang, will definitely savor your body later. I think your blood must taste very good too." His blood-red tongue licked his dry lips.