The pupil of the right eye is gradually heating up.
Yet the world seems clearer than ever. Even the trajectory of the Emperor Liquid beads is traceable in He Qing's eyes.
However, it doesn't seem to be effective.
Wang Weixun stood not far away, emitting peculiar gurgling sounds from his throat, his gaze constantly switching between He Qing and Lin Lin, as though pondering which would be more delicious. Meanwhile, Mingjue stood behind He Qing, his piercing gaze fixed on the familiar face of the monster, his fists clenching and relaxing, with the long whip forged from Netherworld Fire flickering faintly, mirroring his complex emotions.
In front of He Qing, the clock on the rooftop of the adjacent teaching building is slowly moving its hands, as they stalemate for longer periods, the angle between the hour and minute hand becoming smaller and smaller, soon to be completely overlapped!
——Can't wait any longer.
