Zhu Lingshi caught sight of the crimson blade light slashed by Ji Xueying and felt a chilling horror surge through him, a coldness striking directly at his crown.
He couldn't even care about the pain of his broken leg as he let out a terrified scream.
He knew he was definitely going to die!
Zhu Lingshi tried desperately to resist, but he was so weak that he couldn't even stand, and could only watch as the war blade descended toward his face.
At that moment, a middle-aged man with a pale face dressed in the attire of a sixth-rank palace servant appeared in front of him.
"Uncle?"
Zhu Lingshi saw the figure before him and couldn't help but feel a surge of incredulous joy.
His uncle, Zhu Tianmao, had finally taken action!
The pale-faced middle-aged man, highly skilled, merely waved his sword and diverted the blade light that Ji Xueying had slashed with all her might to the side.
