Looking at the dozen cultivators, their expressions pained, one hand gently pressed against their stomachs, the other holding the tissues thrown over by Shen Qiang, their faces were proudly defiant, even the exquisite Qin Yurou was dumbfounded, her beautiful eyes filled with fear.
Seeing those overconfident cultivators gripping the tissues, Zong Zijin's face turned ashen instantly, because ever since the last time he experienced the tissues' volcanic spiciness, he had given them up, as they were nothing short of a nightmare he couldn't bear.
Seeing the beautiful female cultivators beside Shen Qiang filled with terror, Zong Zijin, assuming they were Shen Qiang's followers, also turned pale.
The pompous cultivators suppressed the cramping pain and heaviness in their lower abdomen, refusing to show weakness, all snorting coldly.
