Fang Xing had already raised his head, looking at the three-foot-long piece of green sandalwood incense in his hand.
All this turmoil just to light some incense on Fengshan Mountain, and as a result, within the Snowy Mountain's five grand elders, Long Jianting was dead, Chu Taishang was dead, Zhang Daoyi was dead, Old Bastard Wanluo was dead. Of the eighteen who entered the formation to help Fang Xing break through, only Li Hongyi, Li Guiwa, Han Ying, and Wang Qiong survived, and Wang Qiong was barely clinging to life, on the brink of dying. As for myself and the giant golden crow, who knows how much we suffered, how much blood we shed, one with burnt and disheveled feathers, the other with unimaginable injuries to the body...
Below the mountain, there were countless curses, accompanied by eyes full of killing intent.
Someone is waiting, waiting for the right moment to take my life!
A strange feeling wildly grew inside my heart!
"To hell with your incense!"
