C170

The white-clothed man's eyes emitted a trace of anger. He slowly opened the fan in his hand, and the butterfly on the fan suddenly fluttered in the air, flapping its wings.

The white-clothed man was like a dancing butterfly as he elegantly flew towards the red-clothed man. His clothes fluttered in the wind behind him as countless resentments surged forth like a storm.

The red-clothed man's scabbard was deeply embedded into the ground beside him. The cold and white blade pierced towards the white-clothed man, the tip of the sword piercing through the air and emitting a 'tsk-tsk' sound.

The leaf floated down, as if everything in the surroundings had stopped at that moment. The leaf slowly slid down in the air, its sword sliding past the edge of the leaf. The leaf split into two, emitting a heart-wrenching cry in the frozen air, as the fan tapped against the blade. Two figures intertwined together.

In the forest, there was a battle going on. It was a battle of hatred.

A great grudge cannot be avenged, nor can a small grudge be born. Master, human emotions can't control this. Humans are too small, they can only protect their soul from harm, protect what they should have.

The emotions in the world are not the mutual amelioration between people, love and hate, this is the emotion of all things in the world.

His clothes fluttered with the leaves. The white folding fan cut through his red clothes, his skin, and the desire on his face.

"< Deal of the Butterfly > is indeed invincible." The red-clothed man's voice floated in the air, causing pain.

Blood seeped through his red clothes.

The man threw away the sword in his hand.

The leaves that fell from the tree also began to fly in all directions at a faster speed. In an instant, his face turned red, and purple, and with a loud explosion, a lot of red cloth flew out from the red-clothed man's body like leaves flying everywhere. His entire body was yellow as if it had been smeared with golden water.

A hard fist smashed towards the white-clothed man. The white-clothed man dodged to the side, and his hard fist smashed into a tree trunk. The tree trunk was shaken until a leaf fell from the tree.

The blood dripped down onto the withered yellow leaf.

The white-clothed man suddenly stepped on the tree trunk, wanting to fly up into the air. He flipped himself around in the air, and the folding fan in his hand was like a sharp iron plate that flew towards the bronze colored man. The man turned around to dodge, and the leaf fell on his chest. Thick leaves piled up on the ground flew up into the air, and the man's forehead folded and fanned endlessly in the air. Countless leaves were like countless daggers as they shot towards the man with mother's body, the man's upper body was covered with cuts and bruises, and countless blood slowly flowed out. In the air, a man in anger swung his leg down towards the man in white clothes, and the man's body spun around a tree trunk to avoid the leg. However, the man's foot struck the tree, shaking many leaves off.

The man's face had already become extremely twisted. The man who was extremely angry pulled up a small tree, and with no effort at all, the tree shot towards the man in white. The man in white continuously retreated, but his back bumped into the tree, and just as the tree was about to close in on him. The man in white pressed his body against the trunk of the tree.

The white clothed man quickly pulled back the tree that had been shot out. The white clothed man flipped in the air and struggled to open the folding fan in his hand, as if he was cutting the air into two pieces. The sword flew in the air, transforming the fan into a sword, man and sword became one, and the folding fan slashed towards the tree trunk that was dancing in the air.

While the man was angry and unable to attack, a dart flew through the air toward the man in white. The man in white leaned to one side, lifted his fan and opened up the dart that was coming toward him. The dart pierced the tree trunk beside him, and when the man in white looked at the man in white, he was gone, leaving a trail of blood on the yellow leaves on a river of swords.

The man in white noticed that the dart was tied with a piece of cloth and was engraved with a prominent ink. "Bring a secret manual to save him."

The white-clothed man's hand trembled as he reached out to remove the dart.

His eyes were hazy and unfocused. The whole forest was like the mouth of a huge beast, devouring his body. Anger. His eyes pierced the beast's body.

A leaf floated down and landed on his shoulder, then on the ground. Fear and anger seeped through the dead leaves on the ground.

Yan Wenqing, who was filled with fear, rushed home to beg the Emperor. The mountain forest was extremely quiet. There were only a few birds chirping in the forest. The wooden house was empty. The silence made Yan Wenqing afraid, a fear that he had never felt before. Sweat broke out on his forehead and soaked his collar. The hand holding the folding fan was trembling slightly.

He walked out of the house in a daze. It was an endless desolate land. Even the endless mountain mist and the cloudy sky in the distance were filled with guilt.

Suddenly, a shadow flashed across the forest across the pool. Yan Wenqing chased after him like a madman.

The panicked Yan Wenqing followed the dark figure all the way to an extremely remote alley on Changan Street. Suddenly, the figure disappeared into the alley and could no longer be found. "Wuwuwu, wuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwu ?"

The sky had already darkened. Borrowing the dim light of the day, Yan Wenqing walked along this desolate alleyway, attentively and attentively watching his surroundings for any movements in the wind or grass. In his heart, he had a strong premonition that panic was spreading through this alley.

Deep in the alley, a faint glow of jasmine came from a yard.

Without thinking much, Yan Wenqing rushed over and fiercely pushed the door open.

The fire was coming from inside the dilapidated living room, where a pile of firewood was burning.

Yan Wenqing slowly wanted to get closer to the bonfire, the surroundings emitting a terrifying killing intent. Yan Wenqing grasped his folding fan tightly and walked closer step by step.

Suddenly there was a commotion on the roof, and a piece of rubble fell from the eaves.

"Young Master Yan is indeed a righteous person." The sound was coming from the old hall, a woman's voice.