Bai Ruozhu's heart twisted, as if something had unexpectedly stabbed her. In the image, the man named Jiang was covered in blood, his arm hanging limply at his side as if it were useless!
The first time she saw him, she thought he looked like a painted immortal. She regretted that he wasn't wearing white, which would have made the image perfect. Afterwards, his cold demeanor made her feel as if he were an officer from Hell. But now, his mask was no longer in place, a sword wound on his forehead bleeding profusely; his hair was disheveled and his clothes were torn due to his injuries.
Yet, Bai Ruozhu could not sense any disarray or embarrassment from him. At this moment, his eyes were blood red, emitting a ruthless determination, like the most ferocious wolf on the grasslands. Even if the injuries were severe, he could drag his enemies down to Hell with him.