The snow-white chill was his hallmark, facing a sword head-on, until the swing fell, noisy and terrifying, only seeing Li Shuwen and Mu Rou's hearts race.
Wang Zhongyun did not evade. He directly ran to meet the world's heroes.
He knew Lin Chaofeng's sword was a perfect weapon, but a practitioner's combat was not always the best unless they require external help.
"Strike!" A clear, slightly piercing sound of the blade meeting again rose, only to see Lin Chaofeng's sword land in Wang Zhongyi's hand.
Lin Chaofeng had dandruffed hair, a sword fell again, and seemed to be chopping fiercely down; the anti-group force made his mouth numb, nearly losing control of the world's heroes.
He did not strike there; under the anti-group force, his body did not fall to the ground.
At this moment, a gust of wind blew onto the two people holding on to each other, a gentle force bathing them in tenderness.
