Zhu Zhuqing looked up at the purple figure gradually receding into the distance, her fingers still gripping the wine flask in the same position as before.
Her cool face was now filled with shock, and it was as though starlight had shattered within her deep blue eyes.
She had traveled alongside Fang Fan all this way. She had seen him slay Yu Yuanzhen and force back Qian Daoliu, yet this battle still made her heart leap fiercely.
Bibi Dong at ninety percent of her strength, the Rakshasa Scythe, a full-power strike from a level ninety-nine Peerless Douluo.
Not only had Fang Fan taken it, he had even forced Bibi Dong back half a step. She suddenly found herself at a loss for words.
She wanted to praise him, but ordinary words like "impressive" and "powerful" felt far too weak, too weak to match that sword strike just now.
Ning Rongrong stood beside Zhu Zhuqing, her green dress puffing slightly in the night wind.
Her mouth was wide enough to fit an egg, and her eyes shone like two little lanterns.
She grabbed Zhu Zhuqing's arm and shook it hard twice, unable to contain the excitement in her voice.
"Did you see that? Did you see that? I told you Fang Fan wasn't just awesome—he's handsome! Level seventy-five! At level seventy-five, he took Bibi Dong's ninety-percent attack!
And even forced her back! That was Bibi Dong! The Pope of Spirit Hall! A level ninety-eight Peak Douluo!"
The more she spoke, the more excited she became, until she practically started bouncing in place.
Zhu Zhuqing was a little helpless from being shaken, but she did not refute her.
She merely gave a soft "Mm," then held the wine flask out toward the direction Fang Fan was returning from.
When Fang Fan landed