Counting the Harvest

Not long after, Chen An brought his wives and daughter back to the depths of the forest.

When the remaining dozen or so deacons saw that Chen An had returned unscathed, they were immediately frightened out of their wits.

The few who reacted quickly turned around and ran immediately, using all kinds of footwork.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast their legs could carry them, it could not compare to the speed of light.

"Pfft… Pfft… Pfft!"

A series of muffled sounds could be heard.

More than ten Bamboo Leaf Gang deacons with cultivation at the ninth level of Qi Refining were instantly shot in the head by the golden light and died on the spot.

"Chen, Alchemist Chen…"

Shen Qingyi felt that her eyelids were very heavy. She tried her best to open her eyes and look at Chen An in front of her. She wanted to ask something, but unfortunately, the Soft Immortal Powder took effect. Her lips were so soft that she could not open them.