Hu Qing hastily retracted his hand after touching the vines.
He raised his palm and felt that his palm was already red hot.
The burning sensation spread from his palm to his heart. He loosened his hand that was carrying Little Qing Han, letting her body fall from his grasp.
Nan Xian instantly stepped forward, grabbed Little Qing Han's lapel, and pulled her to his side.
On top of that cold expression, there was a hint of disdain.
Of course, it was only to Little Qing Han.
If Little Qing Han had not called him Father... He would not have even caught in time and would have simply let her fall to the ground.
Hu Qing's face suddenly darkened, and he laughed out coldly.
"Nan Xian, it's too late for you to rush back now, and even if you do, I'm afraid that you might not be able to escape from me. I won't let you do what you want..."
He grunted coldly as his body transformed into a sword and swiftly moved toward Nan Xian.