C1187

"Great Hall, you destroyed Mr. Ming Lang's jade flute, what's this supposed to be?"

Lu Yiyao's face sank. He didn't face his question directly, but lowered his eyes to look at the jade flute that was broken into three pieces.

The end of the red spike fell to the floor like a pool of blood.

The name of this flute was called — Setting Sun.

The setting sun was as red as blood