"My sister is still too soft-hearted." Lan Xiaowu smiled wryly, his eyes narrowed into a slit.

There is no distinction between black and white in this world, and only ruthless means can protect oneself.

However, my sister is willing to have a trace of benevolence, so she will follow the fasting and chant the Buddha and be a hypocritical monk.

Lan Xiaowu's eyes looked at the maid's face like dead ashes, her ears buzzed, and the words "cut out your tongue" repeatedly circulated in her brain.

Her body was dragged away by Liu Qing, but her soul was scared away, and the two gold bracelets hanging from her wrists were even more cold with candlelight.

Lan Wujiang's eyes were like ink, the corners of her lips were sarcastic, the hem of her clothes swept the ground, she looked out of the house, she could smell the canary birds chirping, and the sun was like blood.

There are always people who stumble and fall into the smell of copper, lose the bottom line, and lose their dignity.

Dare to ask a thousand dollars to buy a life, is it worth it?

She had no intention of looking back, like the rain in the south of the Yangtze River smearing the picture scroll, and her eyebrows and eyes were deep into Lan Xiaowu's heart.

Lan Xiaowu's fingers moved, her lips opened slightly, and the greedy emotions brewed into obsession in her heart, sinking into decay in her bones......

The night is not young, and the wind is cool.

Outside the Colosseum, there are many people coming and going, it is a high-rise loft, layer upon layer of mountains and seas, like a huge barrier, separating the Colosseum from the noisy world.

"Yo, guest officer, you're late, and the seats inside are sold out today." A small guy saw Lan Wujiang wearing a man with an iron mask, and for a while thought it was a chivalrous man who came to see the play, and greeted him.

Lan Wujiang lowered his voice, his eyes resting on the registration form for the Seven-Day Tournament that was in the corner of the table.

"I'm here to compete, and I heard that the owner has arranged a seven-day tournament recently." Her throat was tightened, but fortunately, her face was covered with a mask, and her whole body was indifferent.

The little guy's face changed when he heard this, and after a long time, he slowly spoke, explaining, "Childe, today is the last day of the seven-day competition, and seven corners have been selected in front of you, all of them are powerful characters, if you want to win or win the championship, you have to pass the seven levels they have passed today, you have to think clearly, do you want to sign up?"

"Sign up." She replied simply, and the little maid couldn't feel the spiritual power fluctuations on Lan Wujiang's body, and frowned deeply.

"Dare to ask what kind of sect Gongzi is? The Colosseum is only open to monks and above. He picked up the watch suspiciously, the brush was stained with ink, and for a moment the brush hung in the air, and the ink fell along the tip of the pen and slowly spread on the table.

Lan Wujiang raised his head, his eyes met the little guy, and the little guy who looked at it was cold.

"Physical cultivation, the fourth order of soul quenching."

The hoarse voice and the iron mask made the little guy shudder, and he dropped the pen on the paper in shock.

How long has it been since I've seen such a thin body cultivator?

It's just that he is still a fourth-order soul quenching order, not to be underestimated, he pondered for a moment, and said respectfully, "Dare to ask the name of the son." ”

"Wu Cong."

Lan Wujiang lowered her eyes and continued to use the name given to her by Wu Changli.

The little guy nodded hurriedly, wrote Lan Wujiang's registration form, and handed it to Lan Wujiang.

"Childe, please go this way, start the game in half an hour, and ask Childe to rest for a while." The little guy bent his eyebrows and looked very kind.

Lan Wujiang glanced at the registration form, and saw that the corners of his lips were tugging when he saw the last sentence of life and death conceit.

Entering the Colosseum, it is very different from the appearance outside, the interior is a wide open space, it seems to be about 500 meters, the seats are in a circular arc and wrap around, more than 10 layers are rowed back, the momentum is huge, the scale is majestic. At the entrance, there is a small stall for spectators to gamble.

Below the field, the yellow sand flew lightly, and the rows of iron railings that held the fierce beasts were dazzling, and the scarred fierce beasts roared inside, as if they were struggling with fate senselessly.

A faint smell of blood wafted in the air, and demonic energy and resentment were intertwined, this was the human Shura field.

Defeat in a war, life and death are different.

Lan Wujiang clenched the cold plum sword at her waist, the aura on her body was cold, and the living did not dare to approach, her clothes and black veil flew up, and the dantian silently stored the evil qi, and the corners of her eyes quietly turned red.