Wang Anfeng was almost petrified.
The people around him might as well have been struck hard on the back of the head; their minds went blank as they looked at the girl holding the upside-down longsword, their emotions fluctuating wildly and struggling to calm down.
The plum blossoms scattered because of the wind.
But the girl was far more dazzling than these plum blossoms.
Almost making it impossible to look away.
Wang Anfeng looked at Xue Qinshuang, at her moon-like eyes, and felt almost as if he were in a dream. However, the feel of the wooden sword in his hand told him that this was not a mere daydream during his idle time, but a tangible reality that was happening before his eyes, an undeniable present.
He took a deep breath.
The thin, cool air of winter, carrying a chill, was drawn into his lungs. Without shifting his gaze from Xue Qinshuang, Wang Anfeng nodded seriously, his eyes as sharp and resolute as the sword in his hand.
A crisp crackling sound.
