Fellow Daoist, Don't Make a Move

Xiao Lei was his third junior brother, and one of the stronger members of the Snowmoon Wolf Clan.

He had actually been ambushed and held back by a half-bodied ghost creature just now, then killed in a sneak attack by that middle-aged scholar. There were only three martial brothers in their line altogether.

The Snowmoon Wolf Clan enjoyed long lifespans. They had already spent more than a hundred and seventy years together and were as close as sworn friends. No matter what, he could not swallow this bitter grudge.

It was just that those people had leapt away too quickly along a route they had chosen beforehand. By the time they reacted, they had already fallen some distance behind.

Upon hearing Cui Ting's words, Ying Thirteen revealed a wicked smile on his handsome face.

"Fine. Then I'll deal with that middle-aged woman. I'll make her die at the height of her pleasure!"

As he said this, the evil look on his face deepened.

Previously, he had been no match for that beautiful woman. But now that she had been injured by Cui Ting, her strength had fallen sharply. He was seventy percent confident he could capture her.

Thinking of her voluptuous figure, swaying as though water could drip from it, Ying Thirteen felt a flame slowly rising in his lower abdomen.

Cui Ting knew what Ying Thirteen was thinking and could not help but disdain him inwardly.

"There are several girls of breathtaking beauty behind you, yet you're thinking about a married woman. You truly have no conscience."

Yet he merely chuckled aloud, showing the same approving expression.

"Hehehe... We have five Foundation Establishment cultivators on our side. One person can handle the enemy's two severely injured Foundation Establishment cultivators.

The remaining two fellow Daoists can join forces to encircle