C246 The Strong

In peace, the shorty could never move.

Wang Xiaojia's fist landed on the ground, half-kneeling in front of the short man. The tears in his eyes slipped out of his control, dripping onto the short man's body.

No matter what kind of Mahayana Stage, no matter how strong, no matter what kind of divine ability or magic it was. After all, Wang Xiaojia was just a young man in his twenties