Hot water from the showerhead raised white steam against the tiles. Zhang Ming did not even notice the skin on his lower back turning red from the heat. A ceramic shattering sound suddenly came from the other end of the phone, and Shang Yilin's breathing was amplified three times over the electrical current.
"You're cutting down the Three Emperors of Tiansha like cabbages?" A tearful, angry reprimand pierced through the sound of the water. "Does the little bastard know that Ghost Sword signed a blood pact with the Northwest Military?"
The belt of his bathrobe suddenly snapped, and Zhang Ming flailed to press his lapels together. Reflected in the mirror, a pale-gold phoenix tattoo on his shoulder blade was seeping blood—the trace of backlash from using the Yin-Yang Armor for the very first time.
Chapter 125