...
On a rainy morning, cold raindrops randomly splattered against Wu Hen's cheeks.
Wu Hen didn't dare to open his eyes, hoping that what lay before him was merely an illusion.
Through the dazed slits of his eyes, he saw a pair of exquisite feet adorned with the simplest embroidered shoes. Yet, for some reason, the power those shoes kicked with was comparable to the annihilating stomp of a primordial deity!
"Get up." The Cold-blooded Woman Cailan spoke coldly, as if it was purely an act of bloodline suppression, void of any extraneous emotions.
"I'm already unconscious, you only allow me to use the power of the Holy Sect. It's impossible for me to beat you." Wu Hen still wanted to lie on the ground for a while longer. The ground was damp and cold, but it was better than Cailan's violent attacks from the Holy Sect.
As he spoke, the Cold-blooded Woman Cailan slowly lifted her embroidered shoe-encased foot, suspending it above Wu Hen's knee.
