"Zhang Ruochen?"
Yan Zhexian clenched her fists. Her beautiful face sank, and her teeth started to grind.
Yan Huangtu was stunned, looking at the Rakshasa Supreme Saint from top to bottom.
Without waiting for them to ask or confirm, Zhang Ruochen pulled Gong Nanfeng and flew far away. He called out, "Please wait. I have something to speak to him in private."
Yan Zhexian and Yan Huangtu obviously didn't know how to face the fact that Zhang Ruochen was their savior, so they didn't chase after him.
"Brother Ruochen, we have nothing to hide. Why can't we be straightforward?" Gong Nanfeng asked, confused.
Zhang Ruochen pulled Gong Nanfeng a hundred miles away. He released Profound Spatial Dimension and said thoughtfully, "Lord Ironclad is dead!"
"I know that. I've calculated it. Did you kill him?" Gong Nanfeng asked.