She took out a bottle of water from her bag, gulped down two mouthfuls, and splashed a little on her face to ward off so of the stuffiness.
Suddenly, sounds of fighting ca from up ahead.
Ye Jiuliang’s cold eyes paused for a mont, and she tossed the water bottle back into her bag. She patted the cal’s head, "Fatty, move forward."
Sensing danger, the cal stamped its feet, staunchly refusing to take a step forward.
Ye Jiuliang couldn’t help but laugh and cry, "Fatty, are you moving or not?"
The cal shook its head and turned, ready to flee from this dangerous place.
Luckily, Ye Jiuliang was holding onto its leash, otherwise she would have been thrown off.
This fat cal, when asked to move, would do so sluggishly, but when faced with danger, it ran faster than a rabbit.
She flipped off its back with a jump, landing steadily, and patted the cal’s spine, "Fatty, wait here for , don’t run off."
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and hurried toward the source of the fighting sounds.
The sparse shrubbery and piles of withered yellow leaves covered the ground; when the wind blew, it raised a cloud of dust.
The air was tinged with a faint scent of blood.
A flying dart, gleaming coldly, shot through the air unexpectedly.
Ye Jiuliang reacted extrely quickly, ducking low, and the poison dart embedded itself in the large tree behind her.
Standing up, she turned to look at the dart on the tree, her eyes turning colder.
The dart looked familiar.
She reached out, grasped the handle of the dart, and yanked it out forcefully, scrutinizing it closely.
The more she looked, the more familiar it seed.
Suddenly, she rembered the attack on the road that ti.
Back then, Mohan had blocked a dart for her that was identical to this one.
Could it be those n in black again?
Ye Jiuliang’s eyes shifted as she reached into her bag and took out a purple porcelain bottle, a mischievous smile hooking at the corner of her lips.
Ahead, the atmosphere was tense with drawn swords and crossbows, and the sounds of fighting showed no sign of stopping. The faint scent of blood grew stronger.
On the ground lay a group of people, all dressed in the sa black outfits, their foreheads marred with gaping holes the size of fingernails, a terrifying sight to behold.
It was clear that all had been shot dead with one bullet.
As one group of n in black fell, another wave surged out from all directions, seemingly endless.
Surrounded by a group of n in black, Wei Dong saw more of them closing in on Li Mochan’s position and a trace of urgency crossed his face.
His montary distraction was all the opportunity needed for a poison dart to attack him.
In the blink of an eye, two stones flew in from the left and the right, carrying fierce montum, and knocked the poison dart away with precision.
Knowing one of the stones was thrown by Li Mochan, Wei Dong wondered who had thrown the second one.
With no ti to look around for the secret ally, he kicked away the man in black blocking his path and, with a reverse grip, clasped another man in black by the neck, tightening his fingers, the man was instantly robbed of his breath.
"A group fight is so lively, how about adding to the mix?"
The cool voice pierced through the brush, like thunder on a calm day, lightening the tense atmosphere of the skirmish.
Li Mochan’s heart trembled, and a mysterious glimr spread through his eyes, subtly infused with excitent and joy.
The tall figure weaved through the n in black, his dagger slicing through the air; fresh blood spattered, the scent of blood overpowering.
The n in black surrounding him stiffened, each bearing a slash across the throat.
The next second, they all collapsed, off to have tea with the King of Hell.
Li Mochan turned his gaze, looking eagerly toward the source of the voice.
Inadvertently locking eyes with the smiling gaze of the woman, the corners of his thin lips curled into an indulgent smile.
Indeed, it was his own little wolf cub.
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