It was truly dreamlike.
"I'm not dreaming, am I?" Zhou Qian murmured.
No matter how calm and composed they tried to be, everyone was overcome with excitement. Zhou Qian found himself being tossed into the air by a crowd of Holy Hall Disciples.
If anyone had claimed before the competition that Zhou Qian would make it to the finals in the Pure Land, their first reaction would have been to ask who on earth Zhou Qian was. Their second reaction would have been to question that person's sanity.
But this beaming Zhou Qian had actually done it. His smile was so infectious that anyone who saw it could feel his joy.
A dream had become reality.
In the crowd, Feng Jin watched quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He had been defeated, but his brother had made it.
He no longer hated the Holy Hall.
The Holy Hall's two consecutive victories clearly put a grim expression on the faces of the other opponents waiting for their turn.
