Liu Shayang
編輯: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The dragon ball was black, not too large or too small. It was like exquisite jadeware, bright and transparent.
All of the martial arts practitioners around could feel the energy it was giving off. They were deeply attracted.
When these people were about to start a bloody fight for the dragon ball, someone's eyes lingered on Jiang Chen's face. He got scared and started to retreat.
"Jiang Chen!" he exclaimed. The others' faces were all seized by horror. The greed in their eyes was replaced with fear.
If asked who the strongest youngster in the Fire Field was, everyone would give Jiang Chen as an answer.
"Looks like no one wants it."
Jiang Chen packed the dragon ball up and flew into the air. He returned to the Southwind Ridge first to update his grandpa with the latest information, then he went to the Dragon Field again.
He was thinking about the functions of the dragon ball on his way.