Facing Fang Yang's cold gaze and domineering tone,
Ye Qinghong's body trembled.
Her eyes were filled with desolation.
Could it be...
Was the fourth sister right?
The so-called change by her master was worthless.
Had it been a lie from the very beginning?
For a moment, her sword spirit stirred, and the Green Shadow Sword behind her buzzed with tremors.
It seemed unable to restrain itself any longer.
But in the end, she still forcibly held back.
She closed her eyes and, before her master, she knelt down gracefully.
Her broad green robe rustled in the wind, clinging tightly to her jade-like skin, perfectly revealing her figure.
Although Ye Qinghong had a cold personality, her figure was anything but.
It had only been constrained before due to sword practice.
Now, as she bent over, her black hair hanging down to her hips, she outlined the full and round curve, taut and firm.
Her chest heaved slightly.
Making Fang Yang's breathing even more labored.
