The Anarchic Consort (1)

118-120

Chapter 118: The Result of the Competition

Translator: Misty Cloud Editor: Misty Cloud

Helian Jiao Er at first sounded like she was making considerations on Helian Wei Wei's behalf, but in fact, when these kind of words were spoken under these circumstances, everyone not only wouldn't sympathize with Wei Wei, they would even believe that she'd just finished inspecting the armaments so quickly only for the purpose of drawing everyone's attention.

As expected, once the sound of Helian Jiao Er's words dropped, the gaze everybody used to look at Wei Wei immediately became even more disdainful.

"Some people really know how to act."

"Isn't that just the way it is. This is merely one trick after another. No wonder she could curry Grandmaster Zi Zun's favor."

"Clearly doesn't even know what an armament is, yet still putting on an act there in order to arouse the judging panel members' attention. Truly is disgusting."

One by one by one, the sounds of mockery circulated over. Helian Jiao Er's pair of eyes slightly lowered as her vermillion lips curved into a smile. What she wanted was exactly this effect...

Even if this slut wouldn't fly into a rage like she used to.

Her aim was still achieved. She just wanted this slut, who was a thorn in her eye in all aspects, to have a taste of being disdained by a crowd of thousands!

However, there wasn't a trace of change on Wei Wei's face, and as before, only clearly carried a perverse smiling expression as she raised her wide and spacious red sleeves, as red as blood and seemed as if she was a blood lotus in the mortal world.

After that, she opened her mouth.

Pausing after each word, as weighty as a thousand pounds.

"The judging panel members haven't announced the answer yet. Aren't you guys a bit too noisy?"

Wei Wei took the 'umbrella' in her left hand and propped it up on the floor. That unruffled appearance, seemed to have the spirit of a queen, natural and at ease. She stood there lazily yet just like that, actually gave people a kind of formless feeling of oppression.

Having heard what was said, a young man was sitting within the private room as a trace of difficult to perceive color streaked across the tranquil depths of his eyes. It's impossible to decipher what this profound tint of color meant. Merely that, those two sexy thin lips seemed to have risen slightly, prominently manifesting a perverse trend.

The red haired man standing by his side rubbed his own eyes of a beast. "Master, just now, you...smiled?"

The young man didn't speak and only looked at him, the dark black pupils slightly constricting.

The red haired man pulled back his claws, and stroked the bridge of his nose as he muttered in a whisper. "Isn't it OK if I just didn't see it correctly?

The young man then finally withdrew his gaze and said in a cold and detached voice. "You've already lived for far too many years. It's difficult to avoid your eyes becoming blurry. This Highness can understand the plight of the elderly."

Red haired man:...

That's why they say whichever kind of master one might serve, don't serve one with such a poisonous tongue that when serving him, it made you itch to grind your teeth!

It's simply infuriating to be angered to death, yet he couldn't be killed for it!

How was this spirit beast old!