"It's not that I look down on you—you're just not qualified!"
Nangong Jin's voice was laced with hostility as he glared viciously at Old Miao. "Do you really think you can threaten me like this?" Nangong Jin arched an eyebrow. "Let me tell you, if you don't talk, every single one of your clan will die a miserable death, one by one. Don't think that just because my wife has been cursed with Gu poison, I have no way out. Worst case, I'll die with her. Old Miao, I'm warning you—you've messed with the wrong person. I've always had a spine of steel, and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's being threatened, especially repeatedly. Now, I'll ask you one last time: will you talk, or not?"
Old Miao didn't respond, panting heavily from the pain.
Nangong Jin's eyes turned icy. "Fine. Let's see just how long you can hold out."
At that moment, Xiaowu's phone began to ring. Nangong Jin took a long drag from his cigarette, then nodded, signaling Xiaowu to answer it.
