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The bystanders dispersed cooperatively, while two pairs of hands helped Meng Fuyao up at the same time. One said, "You- sigh!", while the other commented, "I have only not seen you for half a day, and you already have a new interest - fighting in a brothel."

Meng Fuyao raised her head and looked at the anxious Yun Hen and Zong Yue who seemed calm but had actually accumulated dust on his clothes. As she laughed mischievously, her big mouth that stretched apart like a bloody gourd looked really unsightly. Looking at her face, Yun Hen's eyes gleamed and he pointed his sword towards Mist.

Meanwhile, Mist held his chest and looked grudgingly at Meng Fuyao. All of a sudden, with a wave of his sleeve, a plume of thick and slightly smelly smoke rose from the ground.

Everyone immediately retreated, but when the smoke diffused away, Mist was nowhere to be seen. There was only a new pool of blood on the ground.