In truth, Chen Ahmao could have saved himself by simply letting go, but deep down he was someone profoundly loyal and devoted.
I hurried over, but I was too late to intervene.
There I saw Wu Zhenglin, in his purple robe, carrying a pot of steaming rice milk.
He accurately doused the rice milk onto the arm in the lakebed silt. "If scalding doesn't kill you, with my granny and me here, we won't let a demon harm a single person."
"Ouch, it's burning me to death." The two trendy young men being pulled down couldn't avoid some of the boiling rice milk splashing on them and screamed in agony.
However, the thin, green arm just shuddered slightly and didn't budge an inch.
And due to the pain of being splashed by the rice milk, it became even angrier.
With a crack, it crushed the ankle of the young man at the very bottom.
Five long, green claws with sharp nails dug deeply into the young man's flesh and blood.
