To the Yindian Hall, octagonal colors, Fengfei butterfly dance, standing at the end of a space through the hole, that is mysterious and unpredictable.

Chen Jiu and Qing E, who pushed the door out of it, couldn't blink their eyes, nor could they shake their minds if the decoration was more beautiful.

In the middle of the hall, a white, snow-like, crystal-clear, jade-moist, tall, Qiangfeng, Biao woman, tied to a golden pillar by a strange red rope, layers of twining, appears extremely lonely and helpless!

"Ah, don't look at it!" Qing'e cried out and responded. She quickly covered Chen Jiu's eyes with her jade hand and warned him severely, "Don't...