That child, amidst this bitter winter, wore only a thin, long garment. Originally pure white, the shirt was now stained crimson by endless streams of water.,Even with three heads and six arms, Ye Qingtang would have no chance against the onslaught of tens of thousands!,He was a handsome, breathtaking man, his white clothes fluttering in the wind. He stood motionless by Ye Qingtang's body, gazing at the gaping hole that had been ripped open, the faint breath slowly dissipating from the wound.。