Wang Ye stared at Zhao Yiran, his gaze sharp like a sword.
Zhao Yiran saw this, and the corners of her mouth slightly turned up in a sneer.
"What, are you dissatisfied?"
Her tone was filled with arrogance.
After all, she was the head disciple of Taiji Peak, a rising star of Tianyong Mountain, with strength not much inferior to Chen Changsheng.
Exhibiting this sort of demeanor was only natural.
Upon hearing this, Wang Ye's eyes flickered with a hint of chill.
Zhao Yiran shuddered, yet a trace of danger crept into her heart.
Just one look from him was enough to frighten her like this. Who exactly was he?
Could it be that Taiji Peak had produced another mysterious master?
However, Zhao Yiran, being the pride of Taiji Peak, would never easily hand over her Sword Manual to Wang Ye.
"Devil's Pupil."
Purple ripples appeared in Zhao Yiran's eyes.
Her eyes were like bottomless black holes.
She immediately wielded her Divine Soul Power, wanting to control Wang Ye.
