It was already dusk.
The afterglow of the setting sun shone onto Chu Yixuan's slender body and on his peerlessly handsome face, the clear and cold radiance that radiated from his made it difficult for others to resist his.
Qi Yu lifted the curtain of the carriage with her fingers and looked at the side of Chu Yixuan's face. He did not make a move, but stood by the side of the road, calm and steady like the pine trees on the mountain that did not fall.
His face was slightly pale, but his indifferent expression exuded a noble and pure aura that made people not dare to violate him.
Amongst the ten-odd black-clothed men, a small portion of them were distracted by the four guards, while the other large portion were entangled by Lu Ming, unable to escape.
Qi Yu looked around vigilantly. From the looks of it, there were no more ambushes. So, there were only these dozen or so assassins here? Who sent these assassins? Chu Zhe or Feng Qingmo?