C972 You Have No Chance of Winning

Old Nun Qingshui was lying in their eldest senior sister's arms. At this moment, her entire face was flushed red. Unlike Shenmu, white mist began to emerge from her seven orifices. At the same time, her body was trembling slightly, and her face was filled with pain.

The old nun's clothes were already wet, and they were dyed red with blood.

Zhang Xiaolong smiled faintly. Naturally