"You, what kind of thing are you? How, how!" The few mid-stage cultivators of the Hong family couldn't stop trembling.
When those blood-red eyes fell upon him, he felt as if something terrifying was staring at him, his body stiff as if paralyzed, completely unresponsive.
This is the feeling of being dominated by fear, an experience he has never had since he began practicing martial arts.
"Is Hong Weiqing nothing more than a plaything in his hands?" Hong Jincheng's pupils shrank to the size of needle points, shocked beyond measure. He and Hong Weiqing both hailed from the main branch of the Hong family; he naturally knew how high Hong Weiqing's talent was. In the entire Yanghua, only the patriarchs of the two major families could firmly surpass Hong Weiqing.
And now, he was beheaded by a nobody. How horrifying is this? It's simply more spine-chilling than ghost stories.
