The cultivator Dongye Jing, who had a penchant for the fairer sex, reluctantly dispelled the wicked thoughts in his heart.
"The Yuan Mang Fragmented Lands, Pang Jian..."
The thin and tall Dongye Jing, whose breath was chillingly cold, held a feather fan with an air of forced elegance and gazed at that upright figure, lost in thought.
Pang Jian, having reverted to his true appearance, was clad in a sleek black robe; his sharply contoured face exuded an aura of cold severity, making him look extraordinarily remarkable.
As Han Ting made her way toward Pang Jian, her appearance was perhaps not the most striking, but her explosive figure, almost bursting out of her dress, was enough to make Dongye Jing's heart itch with longing.
Even though he had dismissed the evil thoughts in his heart, he couldn't help but glance repeatedly at Han Ting's retreating back, secretly regretting.
"That dwarfish friend of yours, I saw with my own eyes how Pang Jian beheaded him."
