The sudden launch of the Oriental Blue Cloud made me not respond at all. But Chen Huang, who had been cut off his head, was even less responsive.

I looked foolishly at the eastern blue clouds. At this time, he stood beside Chen Huang with cold eyes. It was as cold as a god of death. The long barrenness was Chen Huang's blood, which was still dripping down bit by bit.

"Qingyungge..." I murmured, "You... Has it recovered?"

The Oriental cloud looked at me, and his eyes were still shadows, as if he could not see the light of half hope: "What do you think?"

My heart sank, it seems...