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Chen Fan ignored the crowd’s murmurings and kept walking.
It was only normal to be recognized by others.
Being recognized was only natural; too many people had seen him back then. Even though he escaped quickly, martial artists could spot a mosquito’s wings from kilometers away, let alone a person.
Whoosh.
The surface of the ice river of death splashed as the crowd advanced.
Gradually, the distance between people widened: those with strong bodies or high cultivation moved ahead quickly; the weaker ones struggled with each step, as if treading thin ice.
Many who had entered with smiles now wore grim expressions.
No one knew how far they had come. The river...
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