On the Yangtze River, a figure stood there quietly. His white robes were as white as snow. Facing the gazes of everyone in the world, he was calm and indifferent.
Ye Sheng was very calm. Even if everyone in the world was looking at him, he could still ignore them.
With a world on his shoulders, Ye Sheng could also support himself.
Along the way, Ye Sheng had been picking up fresh flowers in the land of thorns. His body was covered in wounds, and he was not afraid of any enemies.
This time, it was Ye Sheng who took the initiative to fight against 10,000 enemies.
Ye Sheng had never been afraid of trouble. He looked around Yangzi River, and his eyes were bright. Facing the seven or eight people who were attacking him, he violently pressed down with his palm.