Wu Chengyi's gaze fell upon Lu Yu before him, and he saw a fierce brilliance flickering in Lu Yu's eyes, his gaze filled with intense sharpness.
In Lu Yu's palm, he was holding a sword three feet long, as thin as a cicada's wing.
The blade, thin as a cicada's wing, reflected a slight glimmer under the car headlights, giving off a chilling aura.
"Rope-Curled Sword!"
Seeing the long sword in Lu Yu's hand, at this moment Wu Chengyi uttered with slight surprise, lifting his gaze to look at Lu Yu in front of him, saying, "I didn't expect that in your hands, there would be such an extraordinary Soft Sword!"
As he spoke, Wu Chengyi's voice was low, filled with a chill between his words.
Just before, he almost had his throat pierced by this Rope-Curled Sword, so now he was particularly focused on the Rope-Curled Sword in Lu Yu's hand.
"That's right, it is indeed the Rope-Curled Sword."
