Sure enough, the old monk came again, his skin was darkened, his eyes were bleeding, he sat motionless on the head of the bed and looked at him, he didn't say anything, but it was enough to make people horrified.

Wang Xuan didn't wake up, and the scene he had visualized appeared, and the other one, holding a black gold stick, directly hit the head of the old monk sitting cross-legged on the bed, not gentle at all, rather fierce.

He figured it out, since the remaining spiritual energy can't interfere with the present world, nor can it hurt his spirit, and the comer is not good, he doesn't need to get used to it, just make a move.