In the Primordial Golden battle, Zhao Gongming had already lost all signs of life.
All that was left was an ice-cold corpse.
Looking at the corpse in front of him, Lu Ping's eyes flashed with a trace of fear. A dignified quasi-saint with the Immortal Slaying sword in his hand lay here, yet he was still plotted against and killed.
It could be seen just how dangerous this calamity was.
No one could guarantee that they would be able to survive.
Who knows, they might encounter an opponent who had some kind of secret method.
Lu Ping bowed to Zhao Gongming's corpse and lit three incense sticks. It could be said that they had not met in vain.
After saluting, Lu Ping turned to look at Yun Xiao and said, "Madam Yun Xiao, I'm sorry for your loss."
After saying that, he looked at the tigress lying next to Zhao Gongming's corpse and bowed as well.
