Wings of Light

Chen Changsheng's expression was serious and intent, but it was not confident, because right now his posture was rather strange.

If he were to use his umbrella as a shield and move forward with his dagger, then it would be like a brave warrior ascending onto the battlefield. However, right now, the umbrella was not being wielded in his hand, rather being dragged along the sand. He held his dagger upside-down at his wrist, while his knees were slightly bent. His body was leaned forward, as if he was ready at any time to flee. He seemed just like a little thief, a little thief ready to fight for his life.