But in just a fleeting moment, he had vanished into the nebulous mist, into the rain, as if he had never appeared at all, leaving only Situ Danyue standing dazedly in place, staring at the direction where Fang Yang and the scroll painting had disappeared, her eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
Run... ran away?
Just like that, he ran away?
This scroll painting was a spiritual object intertwined with her very life, woven together with her divine soul.
Mystical beyond mystical, wonderful beyond wonderful.
It was her greatest reliance and the source of much of her current strength.
Yet, just because she had sparred with her master once, she was this afraid of him, had his strength really grown to such an extent?
Situ Danyue was overcome with grief and anger, resentful toward the scroll painting, yet she felt utterly helpless. Even though she was well aware that she might no longer be a match for her master, she still went ahead without looking back, delivering a slap.
Humming!
