Fang Qingyu listened to Jiang Wei's almost collapsing cries.
He was momentarily stunned.
The heaviness and battle intent in his eyes were not ignited by this terrifying proclamation, but rather receded like a tide.
In its place was an almost absurd calmness.
He even... couldn't help but let a barely noticeable smile curve his lips.
He said nothing, just raised the hand wrapped with the phantom shadow of the Cyan Dragon and tiny Shenxiao electric light.
Gently placing it on top of Jiang Wei's fiery red hair.
And ruffled it.
At this moment, Jiang Wei was using all her strength in an attempt to pull Fang Qingyu away from this place.
Her icy small hand gripped his wrist tightly, exerting all her might to drag him backward.
Her slender body tensed from the effort, red eyes brimming with urgent tears, her voice breaking with sobs: "Go, I beg you, leave..."
But with her current strength.
If Fang Qingyu didn't want to leave, how could she possibly move him?
