Fang Yi turned to look, only to see a chariot of golden splendor being pulled by nine giant dragons, surging out of the darkness at high speed.,The final, sharp tip of the sword stopped, about three inches from Zhang Ruochin's heart.,From the palm of Fang Yi, a small and exquisite flying knife shot out. It transformed into a slender light trace, aiming for Zhang Ruochin's brow.。