"I..." In the face of Chen Jiuhu's covetous request, Zhao Yan's face is extremely shy, but also a little unable to face him, thinking about what will happen, she is even more embarrassed to die.

"Zhao Yan, you can't talk, can't you?" Chen Jiu rode on a tiger, like a wicked landlord, approaching Zhao Yan with death, making her step unconsciously backward, a little afraid.

"I... Would you like to come down first? Now that Zhao Yan has conceded defeat, she won't fight you any more. Why do you always ride on it? Zhao Yan stares at Chen Jiu, who rides a tiger in front of her. Weishon is sacred...