Ling Chuxi was pushed back to the edge of the high platform. Her beautiful face was pale and a trace of blood seeped out from the corner of her mouth. The purlicue of her right hand, which was holding the sword, was split open and drops of blood fell to the ground. It was like a rose in full bloom, poignant yet tragic.
"Chuxi! Elder sister Chuxi! "Junior martial uncle Ling, junior martial sister ..." Chi hanbing and the other clear frost pond disciples cried out in concern. Even Zhao Dahai and the other two were filled with worry.
"I'm fine,"she said. Ling Chuxi could see through Chi hanbing's thoughts. She looked at her with a strong self-confidence in her eyes.