Lian'er snorted coldly, "We won't be fooled by you!"
"You're just here for Bing Po?"
"this……"
Lian'er quietly moved the alley containing the scorpions next to him, "It's not that I don't want to show it to you, because I'm afraid they'll all run out once I open it."
Lone Star looked at the box and said nothing for a while.[
Lian'er picked up the box and brought it to his ear, "But I can let you listen. Come on, can you listen to the sounds inside?"
Lone Star frowned, "Can you please take it away?"
Lian'er blinked, "You know, it was originally placed in a larger one, but... because a lot of people died, it was moved here. Until now, they are still slowly devouring their own kind.
Scorpions die every day and are eaten by their own kind..."
"What are you raising?" Lone Star's expression suddenly changed, "It's not an ordinary poisonous scorpion."
Lian'er said proudly, "How can I raise ordinary poisonous scorpions? Do I care about them? Some things don't have to be many, as long as they are poisonous enough. When they kill each other, the one who ends up being the most poisonous will be the most poisonous one!
It’s useful!”
Lone Star swallowed his saliva, his expression unnatural, "I take back what I just said, you are not a decent person either."
Murong Qingshuang glanced at his knife and picked it up.
The black crowbar, without any decoration, looks plain and ordinary, but it has a strange feeling.
"I heard that people with high martial arts skills are particularly concerned about their weapons." Murong Qingshuang slowly pulled out the knife, "Some people even use the name of the weapon as their alias. Lone Star, is this your name or your sword?
name?"
Lone Star rolled his eyes, "When you meet people who know nothing about things in the world, sometimes there is really nothing you can do. Are you from the mountains?"
Lian'er said: "Yes. Why do I need to know these things about you? Now I find that many people outside are very annoying!"
"Are you really from the mountains? Who is your master?" Lone Star asked strangely, "How did you get a copy of the Canghai Heart Sutra?"
Murong Qingshuang held his knife. It actually looked like it had been worn for a long time, but it was polished very brightly.
There are traces of time and the luster of being wiped clean.
"What's the name of your weapon?"
"Nameless!" He said impatiently, "You don't know what you have to ask anyway."
