"I am not very good at talking."
When Zhu Shiyao, like a timid little girl, said this sentence, Wang Lu was still laughing in his heart, thinking that, could it be that the next sentence is: If I offend someone, come and f*cking get me?
However, the next moment, Zhu Shiyao drew out the sword on her waist, and from the vacant at a loss look, an incomparably bone-chilling stare flashed out from her eyes.
"Therefore, I shall demonstrate it with a sword."
As soon as her voice fell, the surrounding world changed its colors.
In Wang Lu’s eyes, the world turned into two colors of black and white. The distant scenery was shrouded in a blur of colored glaze cover, unable to be clearly seen. And within that colored glaze cover floated a trace of haze that even the almost within reach Liu Li seemed to lose her vitality, turning into an inanimate thing. In his surrounding, only Zhu Shiyao and her ancient sword were still glowing with color.
