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Ye Feng was in agony, so much so that even the power of the Ghost Hand could not suppress it. Yet Meng Jiangchu hadn’t even come over to look at him.
Watching the man examine Meng Wanshu from head to toe, Ye Feng couldn’t take it anymore.
Forcing the vital force in his body to circulate, he shouted, “H-help me!”
Only then did Meng Jiangchu notice the deep pit several thousand zhang away. Ye Feng was gripping his right shoulder with his left hand, desperately suppressing the rampaging power of the Ghost Hand.
Whoosh!
Meng Jiangchu instantly appeared beside Ye Feng. Meng Jiangchu’s expression turned extremely grave as he looked him over.
With a wave of his hand, twelve ice needles as thin as hair floated in midair. Meng Jiangchu’s divine consciousness hummed,...
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