Huang Quan still had no intention of getting up. Instead, she took a dagger out of her Qiankun pouch.
The dagger had a very peculiar design, like one of those old-fashioned tailor’s scissors. The moment it appeared, it shot into the air and began spinning wildly around them. Calling it a blade was selling it short; it was more like a sentient magical artifact.
Wherever it passed, small gusts of wind stirred. Huang Quan lifted the fabric in her hand just a little, and the dagger instantly swooped over and began cutting into it. Its cuts were perfectly orderly,...
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