As the horse's hooves descended, the surrounding crowd gasped in horror, some of the more faint-hearted even covered their eyes.
With a dull thud, the expected tragedy did not occur.
Instead, the horse whinnied miserably and fell heavily to the ground. Embedded in its flank was a thick bamboo pole, from which blood gushed out.
The middle-aged scholar stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze icy.
"Damn you!"
The horse rider, now furious, scrambled up from the ground. He too had fallen when his mount collapsed. The horse lay bleeding, its breathing growing faint, clearly not long for this world.
The Qingxian Society man's eyes reddened with rage. He uncoiled a whip from his waist and lashed it towards the middle-aged man. Unexpectedly, the latter caught the whip effortlessly, halting its motion as if it were tied to an iron post.
Lu Xuan sneered, and with a pull, the man was involuntarily drawn forward.
