Chang'an Street, under a torrential downpour.
Cold gusts swept through, as specters rushed towards Fang Yang, nearly blotting out the sky, radiating a cold, bleak light.
Any cultivator present would have been terrified beyond measure.
After all, the aura exuding from these specters was simply too frightening, many a Three-Leaf Physique would have collapsed on the spot without even having to engage in combat.
Even Sect Masters of powerful sects seemed frail in front of these specters, incapable of withstanding a single blow.
Rustle rustle!
The rain continued to fall steadily, pattering against the paper umbrella, emitting a crisp, clear sound.
The woman stood in the rain, gazing gently at everything, her eyes tinged with a sliver of coldness.
On that delicate face, a hint of pity showed.
She murmured to herself.
