Hearing Han Yanrou's words, Xu Zimei fell silent.
It seemed that she had grown up enduring ridicule for her looks since she was young.
Thus, when he didn't mind it, she became so excited and happy.
"Are we friends now?" Han Yanrou asked cautiously.
"Of course," Xu Zimei said with a smile, nodding his head.
"Actually, I think you're much better-looking than those other freaks."
"Let me show you something," Han Yanrou said with a light laugh, covering her mouth before carefully pulling a sketchbook from her pocket.
Xu Zimei took the sketchbook, taken aback for a moment.
He didn't know who had drawn it, but the content depicted the great war between the Holy Master and the Form Blood Clan at the end of the Mythical Era.
The Holy Master held the True Divine Sword, enveloped by Sword Intent.
Beneath the Longsword, three thousand miles of clouds and moon were all destroyed under his feet.
