In the vast training grounds.
Two bloody fingers lay on the ground.
The scarlet, glaring red, under the bright sun, was very eye-catching.
"Drip, drip."
Drop by drop, blood dripped onto the ground, sounding extremely piercing at this moment.
Mo Xiangsheng clutched his severed fingers with his hand, his gaze fierce, looking at the nineteen-year-old youth standing before him, his heart filled with shock.
Before this.
He would never have thought.
That this youth could sever his two fingers with a single slash.
Moreover.
As Qin Chen said.
This was because Mo Xiangsheng reacted quickly; if he had been a bit slower, he might have lost his entire hand, or even half his life.
Qin Chen looked at An Wuji with indifferent eyes: "Will you leave on your own, or do you need me to help you?"
An Wuji's eyes were icy: "You're too arrogant!"
It's as if he didn't even see An Wuji at all!
Defeating Mo Xiangsheng doesn't mean he can defeat him, An Wuji.
