"You actually dare to block our way. Do you think you can stop us? You're truly digging your own grave!" The middle-aged man wielded a dagger and walked towards Jing Yun with a sinister grin on his face.
Jing Yun had his hands in his pockets, a burning cigarette dangling from his mouth. His steps were steady, giving the impression of a carefree stroll.
His gaze was exceptionally profound, carrying a biting chill, "This is the land of Huaxia. Do you think you can come and go as you please?"
The middle-aged man laughed with disdain, "Does it make a difference? We come and go on this land whenever we want."
Jing Yun retorted with disdain, "A hundred years ago, you were defeated and retreated like dogs with their tails between their legs. Just days ago, your Wa Country's Eight-Forked Serpent was killed on our Huaxia soil. How do you have the face to say you can come and go at will?"
"Baka!"
