In the hundred-zhang-high mountain valley, Li Xianjun's entire body appeared pallid, as pale as snow, her mouth full of blood. She extended her right hand, her palm trembling fiercely, and gripped the protruding ledge of the cliff wall with her delicate, slender fingers.
"Zzz!"
Her body continued to fall downwards.
Her five fingers, rubbed by the rock, were scraped until they bled.
Yet even so, she dared not let go!
After all, below her body was a hundred-zhang-high cliff. If she fell, even though she was a strong Tribulation Crossing Realm Early Stage cultivator, possessing a flesh as strong as steel, she would likely not survive the violent fall.
The facts presented in front of Li Xianjun told her that she must persist in holding onto that sharp stone. No matter how much that sharp stone pierced her flesh, enduring the acute pain, she absolutely could not relax her grip.
"Witch, you are certainly going to die."
