The stars were shining brightly at night, and the lone lamp at the rock point had yet to sink.
The night grew darker, and the wind that blew over seemed to be filled with killing intent.
A battle between cultivators made the surrounding commoners hide in their houses. They did not dare to light the lamps or speak loudly, afraid that they would disturb the battle and be implicated.
At the entrance of Qingbo Street, An Le stood on the spot and looked up. He equipped the Green Mountain and Ink Pool Sword at his waist and was bathed in the cold moonlight and stars. His handsome face added a hint of demonic charm.
However, at this moment, the entire street's brilliance was gathered by the Confucian-robed man with a saber.
An Le looked at it seriously and admired it.
Luo Qingchen raised his sword and slashed at his Dao heart. From then on, he did not seek the Great Dao, but only relief. This was a very shocking boldness.
