"Swords drawn and crossbows cocked!"
The Jinyi government officers, dressed in dark black, were like a pitch-black tidal wave that Zhao Douan cleaved through, but it also thrust him onto the crest of danger.
In the courtyard, the energy of the martial artists vibrated and interwove intricately like a spiderweb, truly a case of pulling one hair and moving the whole body.
"Master Zhao!"
Zhang Han's usually expressionless face, for once, showed a trace of confusion:
"What do you mean by this?"
Zhao Douan said with a smile:
"Does Mr. Zhang truly not understand, or are you pretending to be confused? Given that you are my senior, you shouldn't be unaware of what this means."
Zhang Han was silent for a moment.
His gaze swept over the defensive gear and weapons of everyone present, the armor-piercing crossbows, and he suddenly felt the wind grow piercingly cold:
