C1224 Deathmatch Arena

At this moment, Wang Xiaojian had his hands behind his back and a white robe was fluttering in the wind. He did not look like he was preparing to fight at all. Instead, he looked like he was going to compose a poem.

Lin Chongshan stood not far away from Wang Xiaojian, his eyes staring at Wang Xiaojian. His murderous aura and sharp eyes seemed to be about to solidify into a solid half