C326 Voices of protest
In the next second, his hair flew about, and drops of blood splattered. A faint red shadow swept across the sky above him, and in the next second, his sharp fingernail-like hand grabbed towards A Sang's back.
Han Yong looked at the white and tender slender arm in front of him that had left a scratch on it. His gaze moved inch by inch until it finally landed on Mo Xiaoran's pale face