Yue Mingzhu seemed to sense someone's arrival. She struggled to lift her eyelids and looked at Wen Qingye. A glint of light appeared in her eyes as her voice, faint as a silken thread, came out, "Save my life, and I'll give you a bottle of Low-Level Spirit Grade pills."
Even in such a state, Yue Mingzhu was unwilling to cry out for Wen Qingye's help. Instead, she was making a deal.
At that moment, although Yue Mingzhu was disheveled, with blood and sand obscuring her delicate features, one could still vaguely make out her stunning beauty.
Wen Qingye couldn't help but chuckle. "Is your life only worth the price of a bottle of Mid-Level Spirit Grade pills, Sword Fairy?"
Hearing Wen Qingye's words, Yue Mingzhu frowned slightly. "You can take anything from my Sumeru Mustard Seed."
