Chu Zhihe said indifferently, "So what?"
Qi Zhiyuan locked eyes with her. In the woman's eyes, there wasn't the slightest hint of emotion, as if she wouldn't care even if she actually died.
As time ticked by, Chu Zhihe's complexion grew paler. Her mana within her had been exhausted, and her vitality and lifespan began to burn away.
Qi Zhiyuan watched her hair at the temples turn gray, wrinkles increasing at the corners of her eyes, and felt as if a knife had stabbed into his heart.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
He howled in pain, then waved his hand, withdrawing all his magic, tightly closing his eyes.
"If you want to enter the Brocade Palace, then kill me!"
"As long as I'm dead, no one will stop you anymore."
Freed from its constraints, the Qinghe Sword let out a clear buzzing sound before transforming into a beam of white light, landing in Chu Zhihe's palm.
"You're really not going to step aside?"
