On the cold black iron platform, a biting chill ran down the spine and rushed straight to the forehead.
Lu Chen's limbs were tightly restrained by thick chains, making him unable to move.
His chest rose and fell violently, and every breath was accompanied by the sound of a gong blowing like a bellows. Blood continued to overflow from the corners of his mouth, dyeing the stone platform beneath him scarlet.
Standing in front of him was his once-married fiancée, Lu Yao, a genius girl that the Lu family had only seen for a century.
At this time, Lu Yao was holding a bone-cutting knife with a cold blue light in her hand. There was no trace of tenderness on her face, only endless indifference and greed.
Lu Yao looked down at him condescendingly and said slowly: "Lu Chen, it would be a waste to keep your natural sword marrow. Now that your Qi Sea has been broken and you have become a useless person, why not give me this sword marrow to help me reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship."
Lu Chen stared at her, his eyes red from bloodshot eyes.
For this woman, he went deep into the mountains and narrowly escaped death before he found the Divine Beauty Herb for her.
But he never imagined that the day he returned from serious injuries would be the day when this woman and the family elders would plot against him.
