A cold wind howled, accompanied by the sound of bones shattering. It painted a scene of carnage amidst the swirling snow. A young man, wielding a sharp blade and possessing an alluring visage, stared down at the enemy sprawled on the ground. His eyes, as cold as autumn water, held no trace of emotion.,Zi Wei slightly raised her eyes. Her pale and exquisite face bore a pair of profound eyes, which swept across the tens of thousands of people gathered hundreds of meters away. Every single person there stared intently at Yi Bu, with an almost greedy gaze.,He was a handsome, breathtaking man, his white clothes fluttering in the wind. He stood motionless by Ye Qingtang's body, gazing at the gaping hole that had been ripped open, the faint breath slowly dissipating from the wound.。