The art of an emperor lies in balance!
Xu Xiaoshou's measure of balance was about his own heart, whether to submit or to die, hinged on the attitude he expressed next!
"Saint Xin, do you really think I, the ancestor, have no way to control you?"
Dao Qiongcang suddenly glared with fury, shouting explosively. His jade crown cracked open, and his black hair spread wildly down like a madman.
He thrust his hand into his chest, as if extracting a last-ditch lifesaver, crying out hoarsely:
"This card of mine, hidden for so long, was it waiting for our Saint Servant Bazhun'an, or my inseparable friend Xu Xiaoshou?"
"It was waiting for you, right at this moment, Saint Xin!"
He Ting Mountain, Xu Xiaoshou lay prostrate on the ground, his eyelids twitching wildly, as if his six senses had all been lost, unable to see a shred of the battlefield.
His eyelids trembled and inadvertently lifted a crack.
