The plaza was quickly cleared out. When Qin Yu arrived with his men, he only saw the young man standing at one end of the plaza like bamboo. The fluttering wind blew his black martial arts uniform until it swelled. His long black hair fluttered wantonly behind him. His exquisite face was covered by a snow-white mask. His delicate nose was like a pear blossom that stretched out a flower wall in April. Her lips were pursed into a line, and he was incomparably proud. His exquisite chin was as beautiful as a handful of snow that had not melted for tens of thousands of years on the mountain peak.
One look was enough to make Qin Yu forget himself. The moment he saw the young man, Qin Yu thought he saw the young man who kept calling him "Brother Qin" in Luobei City. They were so similar, but the strong energy fluctuation on the young man reminded Qin Yu that he was not Little Ninth. Little Ninth was a swordsman.
