Without any further pretense, facing Jiang Mo, Han Xiaotian truly did what he just claimed—to speak without reservation.
Although Jiang Mo had sensed a hint of it earlier, hearing the answer outright still ignited a deep anger in his heart.
"So, in the eyes of Xia Country, even those of us willing to cooperate with Xia Country are just disposable pawns, right?"
Han Xiaotian shook his head with a smile, "No, no, no, Elder Jiang is mistaken. It's not Xia Country that sees you as disposable pawns. Rather, of those who were arranged by their clans to be here, which one of you isn't a pawn to your own clan?"
"You..."
Jiang Mo was at a loss for words, his chest burning with anger, yet he couldn't find a single word to refute Han Xiaotian's claim.
The Nine Ancient Tribes are like branches of the same lineage. Should this matter succeed, it would be fine, for since the Luo Clan no longer exists, naturally no one will speak up for them.
