"The enemy general is dead!" A bloodthirsty smile appeared on Chu Chengfeng's face. He licked his lower lip, twisted off the deformed head, and held it high.
"Get going! I don't kill women!"
Xie Yunliu's eyes widened in fury as he pointed at the woman from the Western Regions, who stood frozen in place, a puddle forming at her feet.
Xiao Buping was middle-aged and had long since grown fat. But his Qinggong was as good as ever; when he flew, he was like a nimble fat man. He was seen stepping from one soldier's head to the next. With a flick of his fan, countless steel needles shot out. The soldiers who were hit seemed fine at first, but in the blink of an eye, they began to convulse and collapse—the needles were poisoned.
