Mrs. Zou held the cigarette stick, twisted her waist, and led the two to an underground corridor deep in the mansion.

The road was cramped, spreading downward, and at the end was a large black stone slab.

While!

The cigarette stick knocked on the slate.

The slate "clattered" up, revealing the space behind it.

The temperature dropped all of a sudden.

Mrs. Zou waved her cigarette stick, and the mist swirled in all directions, and a hand was born out of these fogs.

"Devouring Martial Arts: Starting from Becoming a Fake Prince" 179, 180.The knot that is more than a thousand years old, the troll besieges the city (6.3K words - ask for subscription) is in the middle of the hand, please wait a while,

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