This place.
The harvest isn't bad.
Qin Yang kept pestering Lin Fan, wanting to see what that rock actually was. But Lin Fan kept telling him, "I can't say, I can't say—low profile, don't ask too much, it's no good for you."
In the distance.
Mie Sheng was panting heavily, stomping the ground furiously, kicking a poor innocent blade of grass out of its roots with one foot.
"Damned, truly damned! To think I suffered such a great loss!"
His heart burned with rage.
Enraged to the extreme.
He couldn't tolerate it.
He, who strides across the Immortal Realm, had seen all kinds of people and slaughtered all kinds of prodigies. But what he couldn't accept was losing in the Heavenly Secret Realm to someone he'd never heard of before.
And utterly losing, at that.
His heart almost couldn't take it.
The Immortal Sword was shattered, a massive loss for him.
Especially remembering his pathetic state while fleeing—he didn't even know how to describe it.
