An awkward atmosphere spread through the hallway.
Qin Yang and the little fox were locked in a staring contest, with an unconscious middle-aged woman lying between them, creating a stalemate.
By now, the White Fox's pale little face was flushed crimson from casting too many illusion techniques.
As for Qin Yang on the other hand...
He wasn't even flushed and his heart wasn't racing, as if he couldn't care less about the spectacle brought on by the illusions.
This immediately shattered the White Fox's confidence.
'Ridiculous!'
After all,
she had just unleashed every illusion technique she had ever learned.
By all rights, Qin Yang should have been scared stiff, fainting on the spot a dozen times over.
But what happened instead?
Forget flinching—he hadn't even budged an inch!
'How is this possible?!'
The White Fox was utterly shocked. She narrowed her slender eyes, scrutinizing the man before her.
She recalled an old saying she'd once heard.
