Ning Yuan Rong Zhao

Fēng Mó stood on a dragon bone of the golden chariot, and let out a sinister chuckle: "Brother Fang, Brother Dong Liu, it's been a long time.,The saints who did not engage in battle released their spiritual power and became vigilant.,From the palm of Fang Yi, a small and exquisite flying knife shot out. It transformed into a slender light trace, aiming for Zhang Ruochin's brow.。