Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Eight: The Meeting Gift

Women visiting brothels in Dayan is not uncommon, but this woman clearly did not look like someone immersed in such pleasures.

Moreover, Qifeng Pavilion was now deserted, with all the patrons who could flee having done so amid the fight between Great Grandmasters.

Yet in the midst of the silent ruins, a woman in a bright red robe slowly walked towards the two men step by step.

The Finger-Circling Soft Sword danced casually at her fingertips, creating a series of beautiful arcs as streaks of cold light slashed through the air.

She stepped on the rubble without making a sound, her long robe trailing on the ground, like a blood rose from the other shore.

Like a ghost, like an exiled fairy.

Just as the hall had been in chaos just moments ago, she remained unseen, and even as she gently plucked the strings of a zither, no one noticed her.

Including the Saint's Remnant Soul.

Xu Yuan was pondering whether to reveal the Saint's Remnant Soul and make a direct run for it.