“Stop!” cried a trembling voice. It was Xue Yuncui, who was still next to Xu Qing. Her body shook and her face was pale. But she still held the sword at Xu Qing’s neck, seemingly ready to stab it in at any moment.
To her, Meng Hao appeared to be some sort of devilish fiend, cruel and ruthless. It caused the blood to drain from her face, and she didn’t dare to even look him in the eye. Regret welled up from within her heart, but it was too late. She could only beg for him to let her go.