Inside Sword Casting City, there is a teahouse by the road.
Lu Xun and Ye Sui'an sit there, gazing at each other in silence.
He knows that Ye Sui'an's mood isn't very good at the moment.
Although Lu Xun's arrival had delighted him, the oppression from the battle outside of the city continued to linger in his heart.
——Especially when it came to the death of Wu Shanshui.
This old man, although vulgar in speech, had caused Ye Sui'an much frustration during the course of their acquaintance. But revisiting those memories now evoked feelings of extraordinary sorrow.
Lu Xun looks at him, gently pats his shoulder, but remains silent.
He is adept at delivering cutting remarks, but when it comes to comforting others, he's quite clueless… It could even be said that he is terrible at it.
Above the skies, a stream of lights frequently streaks across the horizon. Those are the flying swords, one after another.
