The water tides drifted like a gust of wind around a single sword.
The sword circled rapidly around Gu Qing Shan several times before it stopped in front of him and hovered motionlessly.
------it seemed to be cautiously evaluating something.
Gu Qing Shan asked with surprise: "Ah? Did you get thinner?"
The sword froze.
Gu Qing Shan reached his hand out to gently stroke the sword.
The shaft of the sword was thin with a dim color, constantly radiating a sharp sense of 'will'.
The hilt of the sword had the words [Chao Yin] engraved onto it in an ancient language, which emanated a faint sense of ferocity.
Gu Qing Shan grasped the sword tightly and casually swung it.
