The process of Yisheng Feng's ascension in life...
was abruptly halted.
The resonance between heaven and earth was like the residual sound of a broken string, dissipating gracefully.
Some regrets were inevitable.
Wei Guangyao felt a chill while leading his troops in a rapid charge.
He looked up—
The Min Xi Corridor returned to winter tonight, with snow swirling under the moonlight and starlight.
Clearly, it was just past New Year's Eve.
This should be the season when all things flourish.
The snow naturally melted away as it approached the Soldier Slayer, but his heart inevitably headed towards the frosty sky.
He did not see how Chu Min died.
When he brought his well-prepared army, formed a battle formation, and approached, he only saw the bodies of foreign beasts, the fragments of puppets, and the silent Yisheng Feng in mid-air.
His gaze surveyed the ground for a while before he saw the forever immobile Chu Min.
