Chapter 117
Words:316Update:22/06/29 07:42:46
He couldn't move? Ye Zixin got it.
His golden eyes seemed to be able to see through everything.
"The body that should've died a thousand years ago is no longer here? Should it stay in this world? "
"I'll grant you eternal rest."
What did he want to do?
Ye Zixin's eyes widened. He found that a golden thread was approaching him, like a willow leaf fluttering in the wind.
But it was a deadly sickle.
The thread of karma originated from the Ye Clan's sacred wood. Why would it never? Would it hurt the people of the Ye Clan? — —
This was a theorem!
"No? … "
Ye Zixin was at a loss. He lowered his head. The thread had penetrated his chest.
What did he do? Slowly scattered into the void like dust. No? Leaving a trace.
And the person standing in front of him? Only? He closed his eyes in boredom.
"I hate rotten things? Flowers. "
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