"Hm?"
Jian Yinhe's brows knitted tightly, several traces of gravity flashing across his face. He stared coldly into the distance and said indifferently, "Since you're not dead, then come out. Stop playing ghost tricks."
"Boom!"
A terrifying explosion resounded.
At a place a hundred meters away from the stone platform, a thin figure stood up.
That figure swayed unsteadily, like a reed in the wind, as if a light breeze would be enough to knock him down.
"He actually… didn't die!"
At this moment, almost everyone fixed their gazes on that figure.
They saw that the clothes on that figure had long been dyed red with blood. On his body there was a very deep Sword mark.
That Sword scar was so deep the bone could be seen, blood continuously flowing from the wound.
That figure was none other than Ye Xuan.
