Xia Qingyue’s gaze was tranquil and calm. Her feet had not moved. Facing Han Yunzhi’s sword aura, her snow-like right hand moved gently…
Whoosh!
A cold wind breezed past and cut at Han Yunzhi’s face like numerous blades of knives. His sword aura was defeated in a matter of seconds and it was as if his entire body had been plunged into the extremities of a frozen prison. His four limbs were impossibly rigid and he was made to stagnate there, kept in his pose of wielding a sword and rushing forward. Let alone being able to continue brandishing his sword, he couldn’t even move his fingers at all.