Some time ago, during that battle on the mountain, there were too many casualties. Now among the Seven of the Primordial, with Zhuo Yunfei, there are only four left, which is quite regretful.
From afar, one could see the smoke rising from Xingqing Prefecture, with flames faintly visible.
The sound of killing and shouting could be clearly heard even from ten miles away.
Chen Ping's expression changed slightly, his thoughts moved, and he released the Little Cyan Bird to scout further for enemy intelligence. He said in a deep voice, "Ancestral Master and Uncle Master, you all lead the troops and follow me. I'll go ahead."
Rescuing people now was like putting out a fire.
He was rather fast, and this time he didn't even ride a horse. His figure soared into the sky, leaping dozens of feet, landing lightly on the grass leaves, turning into a faint green smoke, he had already gone far away.
