"Cold Ice Palm!"
Lu Chuan gently raised his hand and struck out with a palm. Instantly, a fierce cold aura roared out, surrounding the hair-thin needles. As they approached these clusters of intense cold air, they were instantly coated with frost, and within a short time, they condensed into ice needles, suspended in mid-air, unable to advance any further.
"Go back!"
Lu Chuan snorted coldly, and swept his arm.
"Whoosh!" "Whoosh!" "Whoosh!"
Suddenly, a series of rapid sounds of piercing through the air erupted, and the hair-thin needles, now ice needles, veered off-course at an even faster speed, shooting back at Tang Kang'an.
"Mystic Jade Hand."
