"Third Brother!"
Taishu Feng cried out in grief.
"Third Uncle!"
Taishu Yuan and the other younger generation members were so frightened that their faces turned pale.
With a wave of her hand, Jianyi Mingshu seized his storage pouch and the two fallen high-grade magic artifacts.
"In a deathmatch, the spoils belong to the victor. I remember correctly, do I not?"
"Daoist Taishu, then I shall accept these without false modesty."
"You witch!" A Taishu family elder gnashed his teeth and said, "You are absolutely not only at the seventh level of Qi Refining. You are too sinister!"
A disciple from an aristocratic family sneered. "In terms of being sinister, who can compare to your Taishu family? Was it not because you saw that the fairy was only at the seventh level of Qi Refining that you took the initiative to propose a deathmatch?"
"What cultivator does not have a trump card? Could it be that before a deathmatch, one must tell the other party all their trump cards and wealth?"
