"PUH!"
The next moment, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, unable to utter half a word, and passed out on the spot.
"Martial Uncle!!!"
Qin Xianyu, who had just shown a hint of joy on his face, abruptly bowed his head only to see Wang Zijia looking like a candle flickering in the wind.
He was about to step forward.
However, the cold young man holding a sword was quicker. He flashed forward in an instant, catching the faltering Wang Zijia.
The female monk powerhouse of Yuqing Palace also arrived immediately, reaching out to check Wang Zijia's wrist. Zhang Daoxuan and another man also came forward promptly, surrounding Wang Zijia with five people in total.
"Senior Sister, how is he?" the sword-bearing young man asked anxiously.
"Martial Uncle Yuling, my master, he..." Qin Xianyu asked even more anxiously.
