LY 102

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The wooden sword bearing a piece of Cheng Qian’s primordial spirit shuddered violently. Yan Zhengming held it with boundless bewilderment, sensing the painful resonance between it and the one that refined it.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with Cheng Qian, but made a quick decision. “I’ll take you away from here before anything else, and then we can talk about anything needed.”

Then, he reached out to hold him, only for Cheng Qian to instinctively lift his head and shoot a palm at him.


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