"Ha ha ha ha!"
Jiang Dali burst into laughter, laughing so hard that his neck wound split open again, but he still found it funny. His voice was hoarse from amusement.
In the Martial World, everyone feared him like a tiger, considering him a Great Evil Man, absolutely deserving of death.
This was the first time anyone had said that he, Jiang Dali, wasn't worthy of death, despite his fearsome reputation.
Wang Yuyan timidly watched Jiang Dali's blood gushing wound, her heart pounding. She couldn't help but warn, "Stop laughing already, your wound's split open. How can you not care about the pain? No matter how much they praise you, you shouldn't be this happy."
"Ha ha, you little girl, you know nothing. Go fetch me some wine to drink!"
