Blood spurted out of Yin Zhan's heart like a stream of arrows as he fell on his knees. Blood was also dripping down the corners of his mouth.
"Master!" The four guardians of the Wuji Sect shouted in unison, and quickly stepped forward to check Yin Zhan's injury.
Meng Yuan held the blood-stained long sword, frowned, and asked in confusion. "You did this on purpose? Why are you begging for death?"
Yin Zhan's mouth was full of blood, and he grinned, looking very coquettish. "Meng Yuan, I already saw the premonition of this day. So if I, Yin Zhan, are going to die, I can only die at your hands."
"Why?" Meng Yuan pondered for a moment, and suddenly seemed to have thought of something, and asked sharply: "Seven years ago, how much did you know about the Kinugawa incident, outside Jingzhou City?"
