A tower.
Ye Xuan, looking serious, stepped into the depths of the tower's peak.
Killing someone like the flower monk was a trivial matter that Ye Xuan wouldn't care about.
He appeared very calm.
Even if someone was blocking his path ahead.
"A late-stage expert of the Nascent Soul Realm, no wonder you could kill the flower monk."
The man had delicate features, sneered a few times, and with a cold, piercing look, stared intently at Ye Xuan and said in a deep voice.
"Spare me the nonsense, I'm in a hurry."
Ye Xuan, expressionless, watched the delicate-featured man in front of him, the high winds chilling, and said indifferently.
"Great! Arrogant! I hope that when you get killed later, you can keep this act."
The delicate-featured man showed disdain, but before he could finish the word "act," Ye Xuan stepped forward immediately and delivered a hand chop to the man's body.
"Bang!"
