Cheng Xuan was completely unguarded, when suddenly, his mind went blank.
Song Lingqing was only an arm's length away from him, within reach. As her wrist flipped over, a long sword appeared in her palm, radiating a bone-chilling killing intent.
Whiz—
The sword whistled past Cheng Xuan's neck, sending his head soaring through the air with blood spurting, eventually rolling to one side.
In a brief moment of distraction, by the time Cheng Xuan regained his senses, his vision had turned upside down, a world of red. Not far stood a headless corpse.
Taking the head directly had become Song Lingqing's habit, simply because she had previously suffered in that regard.
Not all cultivators have their hearts in vulnerable spots; some, with their peculiar methods, can still fight back even with a damaged heart. She had learned this the hard way, enduring injuries for half a month before she could move freely again.
Gulp—
