Hu Zhongyuan closed his eyes and waited to die. However, a sword suddenly stabbed out from the carriage. Not only was there no sound or sign, but it also seemed transparent. It wasn't to save Hu Zhongyuan, but the sword directly stabbed towards where the ax came from.
In mid-air, the ax and sword clashed. However, they didn't hit straight on. They just brushed each other slightly and then went separate ways a slight brush and they went they separate ways.
A petite body suddenly appeared on the carriage. A thousand feet away, one could see a 40-year-old middle-aged man, hand holding the old copper ax. His face was really ugly. He seemed to be extremely furious. A bloody color appeared at the front of his chest, dyeing that shirt slowly red.
Ruo Shui stood on the carriage, holding onto the long sword. Her expression was calm and composed as she looked forward without any feeling in her face. The aura she gave off was like her sword, as gentle as water.