When a young deer fords the stream, birds fly through the forest.,The ice turned to water, the water to steam. No matter if it was a chaotic snake's pit or an icy prison, everything crumbled in an instant. In the swirling white steam, Zuo Guanglie had become a human torch.,Left Guanglie died, but the Zhulong fire in his body did not dissipate. It was still slowly expanding.。