"Go!" The originally relaxed Zhen Ling suddenly became tense for some unknown reason, furrowing his brows.
A deathly thought turned into a figure, the true form of Mie Sheng.
Standing on the rudimentary ancient boat, he directly grasped Jiang Shang's figure with a virtual grip and swept a glance at everyone. Addressing Jian Wushuang, he said, "Little one, don't worry, we will meet again!"
Jian Wushuang looked up, bloodlines bursting from his eye sockets, the terrifying force of death firmly suppressing the vitality within him.
If it were the true form of Mie Sheng he had encountered just now, he would probably have perished by now.
"Mie Sheng..." Zhen Ling gritted his teeth.
Unbeknownst to them, Qishen Temple had already started to split apart.