"Your aim is there, but your strength still falls a bit short!"
Ning Fan gritted his teeth, grimacing as he used his left hand to rub his chest. He coldly said to Teng Bei, his voice containing a hint of approval, tinged with regret.
For Teng Bei, Ning Fan's approval and regret were nothing short of an insult.
No matter what Ning Fan said, the fact remained unchanged. Despite Teng Bei's all-out strike just now, he couldn't hinder Ning Fan, only causing him a brief delay of a few seconds.
However, Ning Fan's approval was genuine. Teng Bei had, in a flash of inspiration, forcibly twisted his body, narrowly evading Ning Fan's deadly sword strike.
If not for Teng Bei's quick reflexes, the bloody hole on his body wouldn't have been on his shoulder but rather his heart, in which case he would have become yet another ghost under Ning Fan's sword.
