Changsun Qingliu whipped around, and in that instant her blood seemed to freeze solid.
Behind her stood a man in a gray robe, the robe billowing wildly in the gusts surging in from all directions through the void. His figure was tall and lean yet solid, as though a terrifying power was sealed within his body. There was a mocking expression on his face; he was not the sort of breathtakingly handsome man at first glance, yet he possessed a certain magnetism. To those familiar with him, that magnetism was pure sly mischief—but in Changsun Qingliu's eyes, it was nothing but a savagery that made one's heart quail, like seeing a tiger baring its teeth at her in a smile!
"Y-you you you…"
Changsun Qingliu started stammering outright, retreating on instinct, her eyes fixed in a single direction.
She couldn't make sense of it. The Heir of the Little Immortal Realm Xiong Dao was clearly already chasing Fang Xing; how could there still be one left here?
