Wang Chen was momentarily stunned.
He lay half-reclined on the ground, with thick, dry straw beneath him, and by looking up, he could see the face of a man beside him.
The man appeared to be in his thirties or forties, tall and muscular with a resolute look, except that his clothes and armor were full of notches from swords and daggers, and a fresh scar on his face made the flesh look somewhat terrifying.
Clearly, this man had been through a brutal fight and suffered serious injuries.
The reason for Wang Chen's daze was that he felt the man before him looked very familiar, his name almost on the tip of his tongue.
But he just couldn't remember, and felt a sharp pain in his head!
"Young Master."
The man gave a bitter smile and said, "Please forgive your unworthy servant, for I can accompany the Young Master no further."
His breath grew fainter and fainter, "From here on out, the Young Master must travel alone, may the supreme Martial God protect you..."
