The cold words were still swirling on the tip of Bing Ji's tongue when her expression suddenly changed. She drew the sword that hung at her waist with her backhand and slashed forward.
"Clang!"
A crisp metallic collision sounded abruptly, casting a spray of dazzling sparks.
Immediately after, a yellow-orange bullet fell onto the rocks.
Seeing this, the Ghost Swordsman's heart jolted, and he swung his giant sword through the air.
The sharp Sword Qi, like a tiger descending the mountain, slashed towards the Cedar Forest.
"Crack!"
A crooked-necked cedar, having just celebrated its one-hundredth birthday, was split in half at the waist.
At the moment the cedar fell, a ghostly figure, like a white crane spreading its wings, sprang out from within.
Upon seeing the newcomer, Saintess Bing Ji's clear, water-like eyes immediately rippled with surprise.
"Is it you?"
As Saintess Bing Ji recognized Wang Hao, he also recognized her.
