Xue Wanchong was a proud son of the Nine-Sect.
Anyone who could surpass him could be counted on one hand.
If he lost, Kong Yuanba might not object.
But losing to Jiang Fan?
He could not accept it.
"Who lost?"
"You just took advantage of my carelessness, that's all!"
Xue Wanchong, feeling insulted, glared at Jiang Fan: "If you have the guts, fight me again!"
"Let's see who's the hero and who's the coward!"
Jiang Fan remained calm.
Unaffected by the provocation, he replied indifferently: "Fighting you won't prove anything, nor will it distinguish a hero from a coward."
"It's just a waste of spiritual power."
"If you want your honor back, you should show some sincerity."
Did he really expect Jiang Fan to fight with just a few words?
What was he thinking?
If Jiang Fan lost, he'd be injured; if he won, he gained nothing.
There was no need for a pointless duel.
Xue Wanchong was desperate to win back his honor by defeating Jiang Fan.
