Not only did Yun Yang ignore the strike, he carried Yang Botao right up into the air. The silhouette yelled in anger and changed his direction at once, springing up from where they were, hovering in the middle of the mountain-side and flew several hundred feet like a speeding dart. He grabbed hold of Yang Botao’s legs for the briefest moment and cried, "Come down!"
Yun Yang had just terminated a skilled opponent and was still in a daze; besides, the wind he cultivated had just begun billowing, gathering momentum. With a soft sound, Yang Botao was tugged down immediately.
The wind then whizzed again, giving chase ferociously.
As Yang Botao was the rope in the tug-o-war between the two parties, in addition to being unconscious, his mystical Qi was flowing passively and could not sustain such callous pushing and pulling. He spat out a mouthful of blood and slowly regained consciousness, only to see a green silhouette arcing down on him from above while he was being carried away.