Wan Miaoyin let out a soft laugh. The specks of blood on her chin, instead of marring her appearance, only served to accentuate her strange beauty.
She immediately closed her eyes and fell silent, quietly regulating her breathing to recover her strength as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile, the old monk roared, his expression frenzied, as he struggled to writhe his way toward Wan Miaoyin.
'If only... if only he could cover Wan Miaoyin with his own flesh and blood, then it would all be worth it!'
Just then, a hand reached out from the bushes and seized the Gilded Mace.
BUZZ!
The Gilded Mace let out a metallic hum, drawing the attention of both Wan Miaoyin and the old monk.
