The youth coldly stared at Ling Chen, his sharp steel knife slightly tilted, ready to strike at any moment.
Ling Chen slightly frowned, "Not talking, or can't talk? Mute?"
"Hand over the Tianling Blade," the youth squeezed the words through his teeth, each word icy cold, like the chill wind of the twelfth lunar month, chilling to the bone.
Tianling Blade?
Ling Chen was momentarily taken aback, quickly realizing that the youth had come for the Tianling Blade.
"Are you a disciple of the Dangyang Sect?"
"My name is Yi Shuiyan, Qin Wu is my junior sister."
Ling Chen's lips curved slightly, finally clarifying the other's identity. However, Ling Chen was puzzled why the Dangyang Sect was repeatedly trying to acquire the Tianling Blade—could the item really hold extraordinary significance for them?
