Lying on the ground with a face ashen as death, Sang Yang's eyes suddenly lit up with hope, "Father... Father has come?"
Sang Yang, enduring the excruciating pain in his chest, gritted his teeth and called out, "Dad, Dad, I want him dead!"
Each word he uttered caused a severe pain in his chest, and he looked at his father, Sang Zhigang, with an earnest expression.
"Damn, this guy wouldn't dare to confront Sang Zhigang as well, would he? He's really asking for trouble!" The onlookers felt their hearts rapidly thumping, and their blood pressure rising.
Normally, they would never have the opportunity to admire Sang Zhigang so closely; such a big shot in ancient times would have been a king ruling over his own territory.
In front of Sang Zhigang, no one dared to breathe a word, everyone holding their breath and watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.
