Chapter 43 Sowing Discord

  Both sides wanted to continue fighting, but looking at Ke Huan Ye standing in the middle, they reluctantly put down their weapons.

  "Little leaf!"

  Jing Ran stumbled out from behind the crowd, no, he was supported by others, with Qian Xiao Nao on his left and Zuo Yi Han on his right.

  On the handsome face like a ghostly axe, two purple bruises and some ferocious wounds seemed to be cut across the white skin, with bloodstains at the corner of his mouth still wet, dripping down drop by drop.

  Ke Huan Ye suddenly became angry, pain and anger surging up from the bottom of his heart. He glared at Taizi's back and let out a furious roar:

  "Wen Tianmu, get out here!!"

  Damn it, hit him! Why didn't you kill him?! What's the point of just injuring him? Wen Tianmu, where did that bastard go?!

  A chill ran down the spines of Gongzi's men as a cold aura clearly emanated, they still had an air of viewing death as their return and deep-seated hatred.

  "Ke Huan Ye, go take a look at the trash behind yourself."

  A cold voice with an unmistakable undertone of anger, a white V-neck T-shirt, black trousers, spotless even after the recent chaotic battle. This person didn't have a hint of dishevelment, his entire demeanor was cool and noble to the extreme. His dark eyes were as cold as glaciers, his Apollo-like handsome face had no expression whatsoever.

  No matter where he goes, no matter how hot the weather is, as long as this person appears, the temperature around him will drop by several degrees instantly. Everyone has this feeling except for Ke Huan Ye.

  "Yin and Yang person, you'd better stop stirring up trouble, who hit whom, Xiaoye herself is clear about it."

  Jing Ran walked up and stood face to face with Wen Tianmu, and the two people's temperament was immediately highlighted.

  One was disheveled, yet couldn't hide the arrogant and overbearing aura that drew people's attention, while the other was impeccably dressed, with an innate noble coldness; both were individuals who could make others submit at a single glance, true monarchs.

  "Hmm... Ke Huan Ye, your eyes are on your body, right and wrong are black and white, no one can influence you."

  Wen Tian chuckled coldly and didn't bother to respond to Jing Ran, or rather, he didn't even deign to respond to him. Instead, he walked straight to Ke Huan Ye's side and said in a cold voice.

  "Wen Tianmu, what do you mean? Is it justified that Jing Ran was beaten up like this?"

  Ke Huan Ye heard this sentence, even more furious, jumped up and pointed at Jing Ran, shouting loudly at Wen Tian Mu. Jing Ran cooperated very well, pretending to be wronged and suffering.

  One had not a hair out of place, and was spotlessly clean, while the other looked like a beggar from a railway station, and the balance of emotion suddenly swung to the beggar.

  "Madman."

  Wen Tian swept a cold glance over Ke Huan Ye, his thin lips opening slightly as he spoke slowly.

  It's always Jingran, every time it's Jingran. Jingran is deliberately letting people hit him in the face. Will she believe him if he tells her? Will she feel sorry for him if he tells her that he's actually hurt too? The only one she feels sorry for is Jingran, and compared to Jingran, he's nothing. He's inferior, which is why he always compromises every time.

  "Go."

  Wen Tianmu didn't even spare a glance at Ke Huan Ye, and instead turned to the person behind him, spat out a word, and strode away.

  Jing Ran watched as Wen Tianmu walked away, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

  Yin Yang didn't bother using despicable means, he didn't mind, as long as it made Xiao Yezi heartache, anything was fine.

  Wen Tianmu's footsteps were a bit strange, his body seemed unstable, whether it was because he walked too fast or for some other reason. Ke Huan Ye's heart tightened, that bastard must have been hurt, with a black heart and lungs, every time he couldn't speak properly, speaking in a mysterious and ambiguous tone, even when he was injured, he endured it himself, serving him right to be suffocated, serving him right to be misunderstood.

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