Qin shaozhong's chest heaved up and down rapidly as he pointed at Ling Chuxi. His face was red, then white, then green. Ling Chuxi's stab was at the right place. The value of that protective spiritual weapon was not small. It had cost the Qin family more than ten thousand five-colored spirit stones. Last time in Feng Qiao town, Qin shaozhong was willing to push out many of his loyal subordinates to throw away their lives and was not willing to use this protective spiritual armor. He did not expect that in the end, he would only get a pile of broken stones in return.
Qin shaozhong only felt a breath of turbid air reverberate in his chest. He was so angry that he almost vomited blood. He wanted nothing more than to kill Ling Chuxi with a single strike of his sword.
