After, there was a boundless abyss, and in front of her was an encirclement by thousands. Yet, on Ye Qingtang's face, there wasn't even a hint of fear or panic.,The melodious, low voice was ripped apart by the raging wind. The man slowly crouched down, his long and handsome fingers reaching towards the gushing wound. wisps of breath constantly flowed from Ye Qingtang's wound, dotting the man's palm, condensing into a half-bright heart.,In the depths of his eyes, a hint of emerald green flashed. "So it is..."。