"If you're not here to rescue me, are you here to kill me?"
Duanmu Xue’s voice trembled, instantly feeling like she had escaped a dragon's den only to enter a tiger's lair, her heart filled with utter despair.
"Dongfang Yao can deal with me anyway she wants, after all, I have deep grudges with her. But what grievances do I have with you? Why are you treating me like this? When we were in the medieval sect, I treated you well, is this how you repay me?"
Duanmu Xue gritted her teeth, glaring at Michael furiously.
"Treat you well? You mean initially wanting to use me to refine elixirs, making me end up like Xu Rong decimated and unable to bury my body?
Michael found this provocation hilariously absurd.
Duanmu Xue cunningly retorted, "That was at the beginning, didn’t I treat you well after that?"