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The sight took Cloud Soul's breath away.

The sky slowly darkened. In the horizon, the crimson red sunset gradually disappeared into the depths of the mountain in the west. The idyllic rose-colored setting was replaced by a splendid shade of turquoise, and as their surroundings dimmed, their shadows vanished as well.

Night time was impending, and the bright moon was about to rise.

Cloud Soul finally sighed. "I swore… to protect the heir of the Zhan family, and never pardon their enemies."

White velvet mist circulated around her extended hand. Instead of defending himself, Zhan Beiye secretly pressed his palm on Meng Fuyao's back, waiting to push her out as long as Cloud Soul attacked.

Not far behind, Little Seven was waiting to receive them. He would definitely be able to catch Meng Fuyao.

Without any warning, the mist neared Zhan Beiye's chest!