I aspire to become a

Ye You, who was named by Ye Qingtang, frowned slightly, her eyes full of disdain. In her eyes, Ye Qingtang was nothing more than a struggling ant on the verge of death, not even worthy of her mercy.,At this moment, Ye You and the others were already too preoccupied to care about anything else. They frantically fled back along the path they had come from.,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.。