C67

Little Flower won, won incredible, won so... Exorcism.

It was just like Ye Gucheng's flying immortal, Qingcheng's sword; no one could imagine it, no one could see it, no one could see it.

They roared and brushed past each other.

Tiger fell to the ground, wailing.

Little Flower stood there sternly, not saying a word.

He was just like a lonely expert with a cold and inviolable temperament..