Xie Shu's warning was obviously too late.
As one person moved, others were bumped into, pulled, and fell into the wind one after another.
Xuan Qi seemed to have no effect on these winds… no matter how they attacked, there was no result.
That was to be expected, after all, it was wind.
Omnipresent.
Chuzheng: "..."
So scary!!
Don't move, don't move, I won't move.
Suddenly, it grew dark in front of Chuzheng.
Xie Shu, treading on the wind, walked up to her and took her hand.
Blood was still oozing from the palm of her hand, and as Xie Shu held it, he slightly bowed his head and his tongue glided over the wound.
Chuzheng: "..."
I, I don't taste good.
Xie Shu barely lifted his eyes, his lips stained with blood a bright red; he stuck out his tongue and gently licked it, moving as if someone had hit slow motion.
Blood, beauty.
There was a certain alternative charm, indescribably provocative.
The next second, Xie Shu's body went limp.
The wind stopped.
