Mo Jiuye stepped forward with a faint smile, holding the porcelain bottle found in their arms.
"Are you looking for this?"
"Well……"
"this……"
The two of them felt dizzy when they saw the thing that saved their lives being held in someone else's hand.
Mo Jiuye sneered, put the porcelain bottle in his arms, and then asked directly: "Who sent you to Yuncheng?"
While he was asking, Mo Chuhan had already drawn out his sword and put it on the neck of the older southern Xinjiang man.
The people in southern Xinjiang were so frightened that they broke out in cold sweat. They also had martial arts skills.
But just now they felt that the martial arts of the people in front of them were completely superior to them, especially Mo Jiuye, who was Dashun's former God of War, and they had no capital to do anything.
If you don't admit that you are from southern Xinjiang, you may still have a chance of survival.
"Hero, spare your life... We are the people of Dashun, not from southern Xinjiang!"
I have to say that when this elderly man from southern Xinjiang speaks, there is really no accent at all, just like the people from Dashun.
Even so, no one would believe him.
Mo Chuhan moved the knife against his neck again, and the people in Southern Xinjiang could already feel a hint of coldness. If the knife moved again, he would probably see blood.
"Okay...have mercy on me. I'm really not from southern Xinjiang."
Mo Chuhan snorted: "Huh! If you still insist on speaking out when death is imminent, I will let you taste life worse than death."
As he spoke, he had already moved the big knife in his hand and cut off one of the older southern Xinjiang man's ears.
"Ahhhhh..." The southerner screamed in pain, then reached out to cover the area where one of his ears was missing, and looked at Mo Chuhan in horror.
At this moment, Mo Chuhan had raised his sword again and aimed it at his other ear.
When the people from southern Xinjiang saw this, they kept begging for mercy: "Hero, spare your life... I will tell you everything I know."
When Mo Chuhan saw what he said, he stopped what he was doing.
Unexpectedly, the man from Southern Xinjiang took advantage of his pause for a few seconds and went straight towards his sword.
It was too late for Mo Chuhan to dodge, and the sword was inserted right into the southern Xinjiang man's chest.
When Mo Jiuye saw this, he was afraid that another southern Xinjiang man would also commit suicide, so he rushed to the man like lightning and controlled him.
The fifth brother and the sixth brother were the same. They all knew that they could not lose their lives. They followed the footsteps of the ninth brother and gathered around the surviving southern Xinjiang people.
At this time, the surviving southern Xinjiang man couldn't imitate the man who committed suicide. He became more and more frightened, and even wanted to reach out to cover his ears. However, his hands and feet were controlled and unable to move at all.
"What on earth are you going to do?"
Mo Jiuye sneered and said, "As long as you are willing to answer my questions, I promise to give you a painless death."
"Can I not die?" The tragic death of his accomplice just now is still vivid in his mind, and the survivor's scalp feels numb just thinking about it. Who is willing to die if he can live well?
"No." Mo Jiuye answered decisively.
When the survivor saw this, his body trembled, and at the same time, a stream of heat unconsciously appeared in his lower body...
Mo Chuhan turned his head away in disgust: "What a bad luck."
It was also the first time for Fifth Brother and Sixth Brother to see such a scene. Unexpectedly, some people actually became incontinent because of fear.
Fifth brother said impatiently: "Ninth brother, hurry up and interrogate."
As soon as he finished speaking, Mo Chuhan had already raised the knife in his hand, pointing the tip of the knife at the southern Xinjiang man's face.
The people from southern Xinjiang were horrified and said, "Don't kill me, I will tell you anything."
After saying this, he looked at a few more people, thinking that they had acquiesced that they would not kill him because they did not refute.
Mo Jiuye didn't care about this person's thoughts and asked in a deep voice: "Tell me, who sent you here?"
"Yes...it's Mr. Simeng."
"Sure enough, it's him!" Mo Jiuye said through gritted teeth, and then made eye contact with several brothers.
The brothers all hated Mr. Simeng, and when they heard his name, they clenched their fists.
Mo Jiuye took a deep breath and continued to ask: "What did he ask you to come here for?"
"His precious pet is missing and we have been sent to find it."
Speaking of Mr. Simeng's precious pet, the first thing Mo Jiuye thought of was the golden-winged eagle in his wife's space.
He heard from his wife that the little thing looked like an ordinary white dove at ordinary times. Once it needed to perform a task or encountered danger, it would reveal its beak like an eagle.
It seems that Mr. Simeng cares about that little thing.
But this was not the time for him to think about that, he wanted to ask for some useful information.
"Where is Mr. Simeng?"
This is the key, the news that the Mo brothers desperately want to know.
"I do not know……"
"If you dare to say you don't know, it will kill you now!"
Before the southerner had finished speaking, Mo Chuhan's sword was already aimed at the center of his head. If he continued to say he didn't know, he would definitely be split in half.
The people in southern Xinjiang were so frightened that they burst into tears and begged for mercy: "Hero, spare his life...Hero, spare his life. I really don't know the whereabouts of Mr. Simeng."
It is not difficult to see from this person's behavior that he did not lie.
Mo Jiuye still had other questions to ask, but he was afraid that Bago would be impulsive and kill people now, so he could only give a reminder.
"Myna."
Hearing Ninth Brother's reminder, although the knife in Mo Chuhan's hand had no intention of taking it away, he had no intention of dropping it, and it still stayed on the head of the southern Xinjiang man.
Mo Jiuye took the opportunity to step forward and ask, "You don't even know the whereabouts of Mr. Simeng. How did you obey his orders?"
People in southern Xinjiang have been racking their brains to think in order to survive.
He hoped that he could analyze the whereabouts of Mr. Simeng and give an explanation to a few people.
After much thought, he decided to tell everything he knew.
"I was arranged by my master to keep searching for information in Dashun. My master once said that if Mr. Simeng asks us to do something, we must do it."
When Mo Chuhan heard this, he couldn't wait to ask: "Who is your master?"
"My master is Yunli, Queen of Southern Xinjiang." The Southern Xinjiang native answered simply, obviously not intending to lie.
Speaking of Yunli, he was killed by Mo Jiuye in the first place, so he had many questions to ask.
The people in southern Xinjiang in front of him could not leave here alive, so he had no worries.
"Yunli is dead, don't you know?"
The people from Southern Xinjiang were obviously surprised when they heard this: "You said my master is dead?"
Mo Jiuye sneered: "She has already died in my hands."
The people in southern Xinjiang were shocked. No wonder the master didn't issue a mission to him for so long.
However, he felt that the most important thing at the moment was his own life, so he did not dare to ask for details.
Seeing that he didn't say anything, Mo Jiuye continued to ask: "Your master is dead, how did Mr. Simeng order you to do things?
Also, how many spies like you have Yunli arranged in total in Dashun? "
