The demon cultivator's heart trembled greatly as he recognized: "Bukong Sect, Trap Treasure Art!"
The fine needle, caught in the handkerchief, entered the final phase of its frantic struggle. Sun Lingtong was about to succeed when Han Ming lunged forward.
"Let go!" Han Ming moved stiffly but with astonishing speed. Her fingers spread wide, reaching for Sun Lingtong.
Her fingernails were exceptionally sharp, black and purple in color, cutting through the air with ten lines of sharp light. A pungent, sweet scent assaulted the nose.
Sun Lingtong's hair stood on end. She hurriedly released her grip, abandoning the fine needle and the handkerchief and leaping back.
The fine needle and handkerchief fell to the ground.
Han Ming was inherently ruthless. Back then, she had sought revenge against Sun Lie. Sun Lingtong had wronged her before, so Han Ming harbored a deep hatred for the Bukong Sect disciple, each move aimed at Sun Lingtong's vital points.
