These days, the Little Cyan Bird that has been soaring above the skies, joyfully circling around Xingqing Prefecture, suddenly let out a mournful cry.
Just as it flew to Cuihu Residence, it spiraled down in a flurry.
It seemed to suddenly lose its senses, even forgetting how to flap its wings.
Chen Ping restrained the tremor in his heart.
With a flicker, he dashed out of the study through the window, stepped onto the roof tiles, and reached out to catch the Little Cyan Bird.
His fingers gently absorbed the force to cushion the impact, catching the Little Cyan Bird, when a vision abruptly surged into his mind.
It was a city, blood flowing like creeks on all sides, countless figures in black were brandishing swords, wreaking havoc, as a massive hand descended from the sky with a thunderous crash.
