That afternoon, at the eastern border of China.
In a spacious tent, ye chen looked at a middle-aged man with a complicated expression. The man's face was full of stubbles and reeked of alcohol.
The middle-aged man seemed to be tall and handsome, but he gave off an extremely decadent feeling. His disheveled hair was completely white, a kind of lusterless white, like the White hair of an old man at the end of his life.
It was hard to imagine that this was the number one genius of the ruins of Kunlun, Luo Tianya, that ye chen had once known. It was also hard to imagine that the unparalleled God of War in the eyes of outsiders was like this.
"Are you very disappointed?"
As though he had sensed his gaze, Luo Tianya took a huge gulp of wine and laughed at himself,""Brother ye, I'm no longer the Luo Tianya that you know. I can only be said to be a walking corpse that's living for the sake of hatred."