Chen Yi felt a slight sweetness in his throat and calmly raised his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth.
Qin Qingluo stood firmly on the ground, holding the blood-stained spear, her Python Robe fluttering slightly in the chaotic airflow. She looked down at Chen Yi from above, her icy, snake-like pupils showing no surprise, only a thick, unyielding murderous intent.
Raindrops mixed with the Blood Pearl on her forehead that had splashed there unknowingly, trickled down.
The rain poured down.
Qin Qingluo turned her head, seeing that the situation within the Ancestral Temple had calmed. Pairs of eyes trembled, and without her order, no one dared to act rashly.
"The leader has surrendered. Those who give up without resistance can keep their lives; those who continue to rebel shall be killed on the spot. All clan relatives will remain here, and officials and nobles need not panic. Today's events will not implicate the innocent. As for..."
