Rainwater slid down Zhang Baiwei's distorted face as he fell backward toward the basin, the fury in his eyes almost turning tangible.
Fang Qingze arrived at the edge of the cliff. Liu Ling, subdued by him, was in a wretched state, her face brimming with rage and resentment.
The painting scrolls she was so proud of—ones that could rival a Late Tier 4—had been effortlessly torn to shreds by Siliu, the scraps scattering across the ground and dissolving in the rain.
Chapter 384