I aspire to become a

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.,No one would care, Ye Qingtang, whether she lived or died.,The melodious, low voice was ripped apart by the raging wind. The man slowly crouched down, his long and handsome fingers reaching towards the gushing wound. wisps of breath constantly flowed from Ye Qingtang's wound, dotting the man's palm, condensing into a half-bright heart.。