Chapter Seventy-Two: The Next Tide Twelve

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I don't know when, in the seventh-floor Buddha hall of the Collection Pagoda that Fang Zhong came to at the beginning, placed in the corner, the four oil lamps that had been extinguished had been lit up again. In the dim light, Fang Zhong was still sitting cross-legged in the Buddha hall, his hands in front of his chest and abdomen, his eyes closed, as if he was lucky. It's just that at this moment, Fang Zhong's forehead was covered with hot sweat, and even his back was drenched with a large patch. Seal the main section

The seventh layer of the Star Technique Secret Fang Sun was obviously very cold, but Fang Zhong was hot and dry, like a scorching sun

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