On the arena, Han Baiyi wielded his sword in hand, his white clothes fluttering, exuding an aura of Immortal Energy.
Although he was forty years old, he still appeared strikingly handsome. In terms of looks, it must be said, this guy is quite flashy.
In comparison, the appearance of the person opposite him was not worth praising.
Though he was sturdy looking, he had the attire of a farmer, wearing coarse clothing, appearing quite lowly.
At this moment, he stepped onto the stage and cupped his hands: "Imperial Temple's Niu Ba greets Han Sword God."
Han Baiyi glanced at the old farmer before him, his eyes full of disdain: "You seem to be a simple person, why rush to your death, insisting on coming up here?"
Zhu Yuanzhang still maintained his honest demeanor and replied: "I want to show my face in front of the people of this world!"
Han Baiyi frowned, then relaxed: "Showing face might as well be losing face. I detest people like you who seek fame and fortune."
