Lu Sangjiu was an old hand at playing the victim.
Just a few words from her were enough to make many people cast complicated looks at Ye Zhiyao.
Even if they didn't say it aloud, they couldn't help but think, 'They're all disciples from the same sect. How could Ye Zhiyao be so cruel?'
Regardless of whether she was telling the truth, her every word showed a complete lack of regard for their bond as fellow disciples. It was as if she were trying to hound Lu Sangjiu to her death.
Ye Zhiyao had been so shocked from watching the Muxian Sword break in her own hands that she had completely forgotten to keep up her pretense. She was consumed by the desire to make Lu Sangjiu pay and vent her fury.
Now, provoked by Lu Sangjiu and sensing the others' gazes on her, she snapped out of it as if waking from a dream.
'No... with so many people here today, I can't ruin my image!'
Her expression shifted, and Ye Zhiyao finally forced herself to calm down.
