With.

Raising his head, Ye Chen looked calmly into the void, where endless white snow fell. Above the nine heavens, a terrifying whirlpool of life and death hovered above it.

The whirlpool of life and death is like a ferocious devil, tearing at the surrounding snowflakes crazily.

Liu's eyebrows were furrowed, and Qianchuan Xue's heart was filled with an inexplicable sadness. Especially when her beautiful eyes touched the long snow-like hair behind Ye Chen, Qian Chuanxue's heart ached.

She once witnessed the legend of Ye Chen. When he was young and frivolous, he practiced day and night. Practice became his instinct. He paved the road to the strong with countless heartaches. The world only knew his glory and lamented him.

talent.

But no matter how evil you are, your talent only lasts for a few years. How much does it cost to reach where you are now?

Few people know the sadness in this, but Qianchuan Xue can appreciate it. On the top of Luoxia Peak, a lonely figure wields a sword day and night. The only thing that can accompany him is the sword in his hand, the starlight and snowflakes in the sky.

But now Snowflake has accompanied him and buried him at this moment.

Looking at the people close to him, a smile appeared on Ye Chen's lips. This smile was natural and gentle.

But this smile made people even more sad, and the dragon of life and death even turned away, "***, why can't I bear to see this guy become like this? He should be flying in the nine heavens, not the old man in front of me!"

The divine sword channeled the spirit, the Qilin sword trembled slightly, and a low and hoarse sword chant arose.

Sword sorrow, the mournful sound of the Qilin Sword! Each sword has its own story, and the swordsman tells that story with the sword in his hand...
Chapter completed!