The Hand of God

A cold wind blew and swept across the street.

Dead leaves flew together with snowflakes.

Ye Qingxuan stood dully in the doorway, listening to the loud noises that were coming from the restaurant, and a series of breaking sounds. A few gloomy aether waves were destroyed by a stormy wave as soon as they appeared.

In the end, the wall crashed. Someone laughed and came out of the floating dust and smoke.

"What are you waiting for?" Bai Xi was veiled, carrying a large bag of freshly-made food. Her two eyebrows jumped excitedly. "Go! Go! Run!"

As she spoke, she grabbed his hand and began to run with the stumbling Ye Qingxuan. A sharp whistle came closer to them.

"That's him!"

"There he is!"

"Don't let them go!"

While the sharp whistle of the patrolmen approached swiftly, Bai Xi pulled Ye Qingxuan to run along the streets of the Sacred City.

At that moment, Ye Qingxuan was in a trance.