Time passed slowly. In a twinkling of an eye, Ye Dun and Han Feng were still in the quiet room.

At this time, the quiet room is filled with thick blood, and the thick truth rolls up gusts of wind, just like the sea of blood in hell, revealing a suffocating meaning.

Ye Dun and Han Feng are still sitting on the Pu tuan. Now Ye Dun's eyes are closed and his face is solemn. At the top of his head, the bloody lotus flower is slowly rotating and the blood color is still the same.

Not far from him, Han Feng's eyebrows were wrinkled tightly, and even a pale...