The cold wind carried the remnants of the Soul-devouring Banner.
The warmth of the woman in Xie Xuanyi's arms gradually faded, becoming cold.
At an age as beautiful as a flower, withering like one too.
"Xie Xuanyi, didn't expect this, did you..."
Not far away.
"Master White Crane" slowly spoke, his hoarse voice filled with mockery: "You must have thought that the previous Destruction Rain cut soul and body, making me completely vanished. You are the only lucky person under heaven to witness my true appearance, I must say, you and I are truly fated."
Sweeping across the South Border for decades.
Everyone knows the name of the White Ghost.
If it weren't for the incomplete Great Dao, the White Ghost would have already attained the position of "Yang God."
