Yang Ming was injured in the arm, and it was his own brother who had inflicted the wound. A surge of anger suddenly rose in his heart. He had already ordered them to put down their guns, yet this kid had dared to disobey his command.
"Xiao Wu, are you fucking asking for death? You almost got me killed!" Yang Ming yelled at Xiao Wu, who was kneeling there.
Xiao Xuan coldly looked at the man, his dagger stabbing viciously deeper into him. If it weren't for Xiang Yu's instruction not to kill, he would have slit the man's throat right then and there.
The one called Xiao Wu was quite strong; even when Xiao Xuan's dagger pierced into his shoulder, he didn't utter a sound.
Since Xiang Yu was unharmed, he couldn't be bothered with this. In his hand, he now had a shiny dagger, not some ordinary kitchen knife. This dagger had accompanied him through many battles, and countless people had fallen beneath it.