This sentence was truly terrifying.
The two Taoists were at a loss for words while Wang Anfeng could only offer a bitter smile. Glancing at the unfazed Hong Luoyu and then towards Taishu Jian, who leisurely approached the carriage, Wang Anfeng said,
"What is Mr. Taishu talking about?"
But Taishu Jian just smiled, not taking up the conversation.
The middle-aged man whom Wang Anfeng had tapped on the neck turned somewhat pale.
He had just charged in the direction of Wang Anfeng and the others, the first to rush over, completely unaware of what had happened behind him. Yet, having roamed Jianghu for many years, he could somewhat guess.
Thus, the expression on his face became even paler, his body trembling.
Gong Yu held a longsword in his hand.
The loudest and most foul-mouthed bandit leader had just turned to ice inside and out under the chilling Sword Intent, his life extinguished.
