When I look back, I can’t see the figure of Luo Wei, Lu Chen. They don’t know if Luo Wei’s death provoked this antique, but obviously his posture is not fast enough to be swallowed up by the darkness.

On the contrary, the ink rain is the slowest in the process of running. She doesn’t pay attention to her own intensifier. Lu Chen’s foot steps on the words and secrets, and she finds herself the slowest one. "Xiaoxue, oh,no. Lord Valkyria, a thousand snow immortals, took me!" Ink rain doesn’t seem to care about…