The man spoke, then picked up a knife and pointed it at Mo Wu's dirty face, saying softly:,The snow-white blade gleamed in the moonlight, flashing brilliantly. Mo Wu flipped slightly, dodging with ease.,Mo Wu's voice had improved somewhat, no longer as hoarse as before, even carrying a light and gentle warmth. But the man was already terrified, tears and snot streaming down his face, and at the same time, a foul smell wafted up from below.。