Panmo Cong's voice was gentle and childlike, with a hint of boyishness and brightness, and her long eyelashes flapped up and down like black wings, giving her a hint of coquettishness.

He Dinghong felt sick, and a sunspot shot hard towards Pan Mo Cong's forehead and heart. Seeing that the handsome young man was about to be splashed with blood. The next moment, Pan Mo Cong just turned slightly sideways, stretched and retracted his right hand, and the fatal chess piece

It was shattered into powder in his hands.

"Panmo Cong, just pretend to be like others, don't bother me!"

Everyone in the world knows about He Dinghong and Panmo Cong, but few people know that they are actually brothers from the same sect.

Old Man Gushuang only had two disciples in his life, one was his eldest disciple He Dinghong, and the other was his beloved disciple Panmo Cong.[

Despite Pan Mo's youthful appearance, he is the same age as He Dinghong and has already passed the age of forty.

The two of them had never dealt with each other. As soon as the old man Gushuang died, they immediately went their separate ways. One loved power and the other was martial. They vowed not to meet each other until death.

"Senior brother, don't you feel bored sitting in this place where birds don't lay eggs every day? Now that the world is in chaos, it is the best time for our senior brothers to show off their skills!" Panmo Coffin's greenness faded away, and his eyes were full of joy.

Full of enthusiasm, he stood up, put his hands on the stone platform, and leaned a little closer. His pleasant voice was full of temptation: "You and I join forces, even if there are thousands of troops, we can't stop it! How about it, senior brother?"

He stretched out his right hand, his skin was so fair that you could almost see the blue blood vessels.

Not everyone can refuse the rights, status, and money represented by such a hand, and not everyone is willing to refuse it.

He Dinghong obviously didn't give any face, stood up straight, completely ignored Panmo Coffin's outstretched hand, walked to the pavilion and looked into the distance: "If people have different paths, we should not seek to meet others. That's what I said back then, and I still say that now!"

Panmo Coffin slowly retracted his hand, with resentment hidden in his eyes, and his voice was a bit sharp: "Last time it was for a woman, what is it for this time?" His eyes flashed, and he said: "I heard that the Demon Cult is looking for someone recently.

Doesn’t Senior Brother not want to know the address of Qixia Stream?”

He Dinghong turned around suddenly, stared at Panmo's coffin and asked, "Do you understand?"

Panmo Coffin smiled, took a half step back, and said provocatively: "If you promise to cooperate with me, don't talk about the whereabouts of Qixia Stream. I will grant you whatever you want."

He Dinghong sneered lightly and sat down again, not looking at Panmo's coffin again.

"You should give up."

Panmo clenched his fists in his coffin sleeves. He was unwilling and had no other choice, so he had to give up temporarily.

Just as he was about to say goodbye and leave, he suddenly stopped and his ears twitched slightly.

Seeing Panmo Cong's appearance, He Dinghong frowned, stood up and walked over.

Panmo Coffin has a rare power in the world, a pair of ears that are incredibly sensitive, but no sound can escape those "wind-friendly ears".

I saw Panmo's coffin lightening up, turning over and leaping around, and they were several feet away.

After a while, Panmo returned with a coffin and seemed to be holding something in his hand.

"Senior brother, it seems that your green hump is not very clean either. It has quite a lot of little things."

Panmo Cong smiled and handed a bird the size of a palm, covered in gray, to He Dinghong.[

He Dinghong was puzzled: "It's just a sparrow."
Chapter completed!