That same night, the same rain aroused indignation in another swordsman's heart. He walked out of his tent and with his ankles soaked in rainwater, and he went to the entry of another tent. Just as he was just about to speak, the rain stopped.
Liu Fangsheng couldn't let go of the spite in his heart.
"Deng Yuanlei, get out here and talk to me."
This seemingly amiable senior brother of his had not only fled by himself during a moment of crisis, but he had also taken the side of the fake Sect Leader Lu Mian. Liu Qingpu had subdued his resentment, but Liu Fangsheng couldn't do the same.
Deng Yuanlei opened the tent flap and came out. It seemed like he hadn't slept last night either, since he was still wearing neat clothes. Holding onto a sword scabbard in his left hand with a smile on his face, he raised his head and looked into the sky. "You picked the wrong time, junior brother. If you had come a while later, you wouldn't have gotten soaked.