His body suddenly leaped up, and then—his neck was pinched again.,Hearing the sound of a stranger, the white tiger's first reaction was to run, but it was still held in Yang Fan's hand. No matter how hard it struggled, it couldn't escape.,Although surprised by Yang Fan's careless brushwork, as her pen fell, Grandma Wu felt a shift in the other person's aura. The runes she painted faintly shimmered with gold.。