Lin Chang'sheng's gaze was fixed on Yu Wenjing—there was no way he'd go chasing after him now.
"Old bastard, if you dare harm Wenjing in the slightest, I swear I'll wipe your Beimu Immortal Race off the face of the earth!"
Lin Chang'sheng narrowed his eyes, every word ringing with conviction.
If he hadn't already put the Protective Soft Armor Magical Artifact on Yu Wenjing, she'd probably have been killed by Zhao Fuhu's strike just now.
But even so, her situation was anything but optimistic.
After all, Zhao Fuhu was an Immortal Master, and a single punch from him was overbearingly powerful.
Even if the Power of Thunder had been absorbed, Yu Wenjing's Inner Mansion was probably badly wounded.
So Lin Chang'sheng was seriously worried about Wenjing's safety.
"Worry about yourself first! In the Great Yu Imperial City you had arrays to help you; killing you took some effort. But here, at this place—this is your grave!"
The Celestial Concealment Divine Master roared in anger.
