Old Zhao's short knife in hand, lifted and cut the red line.
Yu Longting, at the moment the red line was cut, released a talisman from his sleeve.
The sword tip pressed against the talisman surface, and purple light burst forth.
Immediately, twelve streaks of heavenly thunder descended from the sky, striking the Sky Pit.
In an instant, the lone vine turned to dust.
Simultaneously, Yu Longting coughed lightly, spitting out a small mouthful of blood.
"Truly limitless in pampering your wife." Even a sage like Old Zhao couldn't help but lament, "When I could assist you just now, you should have refrained from activating the Mysterious Thunder Talisman yourself to avoid backlash."
Actually, the second time Old Zhao was not intentionally standing by without helping Yu Longting.
He was indeed seriously injured, and the art that summoned the red line seemed to have consumed some of his vital energy; he was now as pale as paper.
