Chen Changsheng's hand got closer and closer to Xiao Zhang's face, all the way until it touched the edge of the paper.
Perhaps because it had been soaked by sweat or stained with too much blood, the edge of the white paper was not at all sharp. It was like a pastry that had been left on the humid banks of the Tong River for three days.
The moment his finger touched the white paper, the two black holes in the paper suddenly lit up.
Xiao Zhang had opened his eyes.
He had woken up.
Of course, it was also possible that he had never fallen unconscious in the first place.
No shock was visible on Chen Changsheng's face, so he probably knew of this already. He asked, "Have you rested enough?"
Xu Yourong did not turn around. She calmly gazed at that mountain in the sky.
The South Stream Temple sword array was getting closer and closer to the ground, pressed down by the heavy Qi of that mountain.
