What Is the Style?

"Ignorant brat, a mere Apothecary dares to go against an apothecary?"

"He's really overestimating himself!"

The pain from Zhao Shuning's chest assaulted him.

She covered the wound.

"Old man Rong, how dare you hurt me? I'm afraid you won't be able to afford the price."

Zhao Shuning used her hand to cover the blood vessels flowing out of her chest.

"With just you?"

Old Man Rong's mocking laughter had not been released for long, but his two eyebrows suddenly creased.

Because at this moment, he sensed an even stronger wave of Spiritual Force sweeping towards him. This Spiritual Force was stronger than him by more than a dimension.

In the air, the beautiful young girl's lips were stained with blood. Her bright red clothes flapped in the cold wind.

At this moment, she had a strange smile on her face as she looked down at what was happening.

There was a bang.