"Brush!"

Zhao Fengyang suddenly folded up two pieces of paper full of kungfu, and Zhao Xiaoyu, who looked at them with his head outstretched, complained discontentedly: "Brother, what are you doing? People haven't finished reading it yet!"

Instead of paying attention to Zhao Xiaoyu, Zhao Fengyang stared at Song Yan with a complicated expression: "A Yan, do you know how precious this skill is?"

"Isn't it just a skill? Nothing great!" Song Yan disapproved of Tao. In his view, it was only a low-level method of immortal cultivation, but also incomplete, so he really did not care much.

"Wrong! Great mistake, great mistake!" Zhao Fengyang said sternly: "This skill can...