"By the way," Yan Li'an, who had been silent beside them, finally spoke up, "I've already led people into the Divine Church of Light. If you're hoping for them to come to your rescue, you might as well give up that idea now. Zhang Biao and Fu Mingyue have already jumped off the cliff to their deaths."
In their conversation, Song Huaxu's expression became increasingly embarrassed, and his gaze grew more and more sinister.
"National Master... perhaps you should think this over?" With the support from her elder brother and Xiao Pingfeng, Yan Wanqing waved the piece of cloth in her hand, "You only have the time it takes an incense stick to burn. If you don't return by then, Song Ning will end up just like your Temple of Light—"
Her smile was tinged with malice as she locked eyes with Song Huaxu, "Boom—! Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
