There was a tide-like surge in the hearts of the onlookers, driving them to do something.
But none of them moved.
They are both profound practitioners, and they also have their own weapons.
He understood Ye Qingluo's mood very well.
Breaking a mysterious person's natal weapon is equivalent to breaking the mysterious person's life.
His natal weapon was broken in his own hands.
As the owner of the natal weapon, I want to find my own weapon by myself.
Don't rely on anyone.
The onlookers remembered what Nangong Lin said just now.
In my heart, I feel disgusted with the number one beauty named Zi Qianqian in the god class of Shangxuan Academy.
It's just a game.
However, Zi Qianqian has been aggressive all the time, and even used the Tian Ling staff to defeat Ye Qingluo.
Even broke Ye Qingluo's natal weapon.
Really Excessive People...
It's Zi Qianqian!
The onlookers looked at rummaging among the stones, their white hands were already stained with blood, and their eyes couldn't help showing admiration.
Even people who didn't have a good impression of Ye Qingluo before, now feel empathy, and the eyes looking at Ye Qingluo have softened a lot.
Ye Qingluo had no time to take care of all this, nor did he want to pay attention to it.
Her eyes were red, and she rummaged through the corners of every stone.
The profound energy in his hand, one palm after another, slapped away the finely broken stones, not letting go of any gaps.
Flame Devouring Fan...
I always thought that it was the Flame Devouring Fan that guarded her.
But it broke in her hands.
Ye Qingluo pressed her pink lips tightly, and accelerated the speed in her hand.
With one hand, he was about to turn over the stone in front of him.
Before stretching it out, a pair of slender long legs appeared in front of my eyes, the white shimmering slightly, a little dazzling.
Ye Qingluo raised her eyes in a daze, and met a pair of peach blossom eyes filled with anger.
He stretched out a hand towards her, his handsome face was gloomy: "Get up."
"Ah..." Ye Qingluo's voice came to an abrupt end before the word Xuan came out.
Her hands were covered by two gentle palms.
As soon as the body was light, the person was forcibly pulled up.
"Yes, I'm sorry..." Ye Qingluo lowered his eyes, the sockets of which were slightly moist.
The man's hand gently touched the wound on her hand, bringing a cool touch.
Where he swept, the pain gradually disappeared.
"Do you know what's wrong?" He lowered his voice, magnetic and deep.
Ye Qingluo lowered his eyelids, biting his lower lip lightly: "I didn't take good care of the Flame Devouring Fan, it was you..."
"Wrong." The man interrupted her directly, his voice became colder, "Come back with me."
This was the first time that Di Moxuan spoke to her with such a tone and expression.
Ye Qingluo's eyes were flushed, and there was an inexplicable feeling of tears welling in his eyes.
She is not a crying woman.
To be more precise, she never shed a single tear.
No matter how hard and tired, even in the face of death.
She won't even cry.
Tears are a symbol of the weak.
But…
At this moment, when the Flame Devouring Fan was broken, her heart was suddenly emptied.
That empty feeling made her feel complicated.
And Di Moxuan's attitude made the complicated emotions in her heart aggravate even more.
Immediately there was an urge to cry.
Di Moxuan stared at Ye Qingluo quietly for a while.
Although Ye Qingluo lowered her head, her red eyes were exposed from her hair blown away by the wind.
His heart seemed to be stabbed severely by something.
Suddenly, something softened.
After a long time, Di Moxuan sighed softly, put his hand on Ye Qingluo's shoulder, and said in a low voice, "Leave here with me first."