This small mountain village looked somewhat dilapidated.
Everywhere was dull and grey.
Ye Qijun, wearing a white short sleeve shirt and tattered jeans along with a pair of black sneakers, was walking towards them with four or five people behind him. Xu Qiaoqiao felt as if all the light in the village was converging on him.
Even though he had a bandage on his arm and walked with a limp, it was evident that he was injured.
Yet the aura and demeanor around him still deeply shocked Xu Qiaoqiao.
They unconsciously stopped in their tracks.
The person leading Xu Qiaoqiao and the others instinctively stepped aside.
Ye Qijun noticeably saw the few people as well.
His pupils contracted, his steps paused slightly, and then he walked towards them, step by step.
This was the second time Xu Qiaoqiao faced Ye Qijun directly.
He looked so refined, almost like a seductive demon, and even approaching fifty, he still looked notably handsome.
