Li Jinglong: "..."

Hearing this, Zhu Di frowned, stared at Jiang Xinghuo, and stared straight at him, as if he wanted to penetrate his skin, see clearly inside, and see if this person is really a banished immortal, and if he is really not afraid of death .

Jiang Xinghuo didn't feel the familiar revolving door feeling for a long time. Jiang Xinghuo touched his neck. The knife hadn't been cut off, and he wasn't dead yet, so he asked suspiciously.