Meng Ping, currently in the courtyard pavilion of the middle courtyard, was suddenly seized by a premonition, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Ordinary martial artists might receive some vague warning when facing imminent danger, let alone a cultivator like himself.
However, this premonition came far too late. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the dense sound of the air being violently torn apart all around him.
Chapter 109