"You've certainly gone to great lengths to try and kill me," Wen Zhixing chuckled.
Yet, his hand stealthily reached into his robe, gently pressing a talisman against his body.
This movement, however, seemed to be noticed. The black-clad, masked She Zhihong suddenly looked up, his gaze piercing like lightning, shooting straight at Wen Zhixing.
Wen Zhixing instantly felt the hairs all over his body stand on end as a bone-chilling cold swept through him.
"Courting death!" She Zhihong uttered a low shout.
A flash of blade light tore through the air, tracing a silver arc as it stabbed straight for the space between Wen Zhixing's eyebrows.
"Hmm?" The howling, fierce wind slammed into his face, and Wen Zhixing's expression subtly changed.
With a light tap of his toes, he leaped backward, dodging the attack.
