"You!!!" The weak are inherently fragile, let alone the now despondent Gong Zheng, who thinks himself ruined. Once the leader of three thousand warriors and the apex of transcendence, he is now being bossed around by a doctor. This hotshot who once ran amok in the rivers and lakes of Xiling River now has a fierce glint in his eyes, glaring hard at Tang Qingyi, feeling a cold shiver running down his spine. He had known early on about how uncaring the nobility could be, but it was one thing to know and another to experience the disregard firsthand, right after he had worked himself to the bone for them, only to be cast aside as if he were worn-out shoes at the first hint of injury. Oh, the nobility.
Gong Zheng, now desolate and despondent, dispels the fierceness from his eyes, managing a listless reply: "Once I gather some strength, I'll leave."
