"You..."
Che Zhongyang was about to say something, but was interrupted by Du Qiaoyun, who tugged at his sleeve and said crisply:
"It's troublesome for Young Master Fang, you... take care too."
"Senior brother."
"Let's go quickly!"
Watching the backs of the two as they left, Fang Zheng shook his head, returned to the room, sat cross-legged, and started to meditate with his cultivation technique.
Moments later.
"No, it won't work!"
He opened his eyes.
"My thoughts are not smooth, hindering my practice."
A surge of stifled air rushed to the top of his head, causing his mind to be filled with grievances, anger, and killing intent, never calming down.
Damn it!
He cursed angrily, flipping up.
"Let's do it!"
"Kill that He, to get some peace."
*
*
*
On the long street, nine figures were charging quickly toward the Fang Mansion.
