Suddenly, a powerful hand firmly pressed down on Wang Qingtong's hand that was about to take out the Storm Plum Needle.
Wang Qingtong looked up in shock and saw his master, Du Fushan, looking down at him from the shadows.
"M-Master…!"
"I didn't expect it to really be you…"
A thick layer of sorrow appeared between Du Fushan's brows. "It's actually because of my disciple that the entire Dragon Gate Pavilion encountered such a disaster…"
"Master, let me explain! Master, I…"
Bam!
A punch landed on Wang Qingtong's abdomen, as if it was going to pierce through his intestines and stomach, suffocating all his voice.
"Evil creature! You deserve to die!"
Du Fushan shouted angrily with a ferocious expression. He picked up Wang Qingtong and slashed his hand mercilessly at the spine of Wang Qingtong's back.
There was a crisp cracking sound.