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In truth, Piaomiao had already regained clarity. She now stood fully conscious, face-to-face with Cui Yuanyang, the two of them bound tightly together by the chains.
There was simply no separating them, so Zhao Changhe could only restrain them both at once.
Clear-minded or not, Piaomiao’s aura remained ferocious and volatile, a tempest of violent intent. She thrashed and writhed incessantly. Cui Yuanyang could even see her face twisted with malice. Once a figure of cold, elegant beauty, she was now more like a venomous harpy.
Her thoughts were fully consumed by inner demons. At this moment, Piaomiao was a demon driven by hatred.
Had she regained clarity a moment sooner, Zhao Changhe would never have been able to bind her so easily. Fortunately, he had acted while she was still dazed. Now, no matter how much fury burned within her, she could not escape the grasp of that bizarre artifact.
“You dare bind me?! Once I break free, none of you will be left with a whole corpse!”
Cui Yuanyang tried to speak...
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