"We've won!"
Beiting Huang was thrown into the air by Liu Xu and the others. Joy surged in her heart. She turned her head and looked at the person standing beside her who was smiling quietly at her. Beiting Huang reached out her hand.
Yan Ye raised his hand and held her soft hand. Just now, these hands had killed two peerless geniuses on the continent, but in his hands, they were still so soft, clean, and filled with a faint warmth. Yan Ye retracted his arm and pulled her into his arms.
"Yes, we've won!"
Yan Ye lowered his head and kissed her gently on the top of her head. At this moment, the man was holding a young man in his arms. His snow-white robe was wrapped around his black warrior uniform. The young man's head had just reached the man's chin. They stood in the arena where the blood rain was falling, as if they were enveloped by fireworks. The scene was so strange, but in everyone's eyes, they looked very compatible.