For a long moment, Xiong Dahuo's words hung in the air between the two young men, growing heavier with each breath until Wu Ling felt like the words were turning into a stone upon his back.
"Don't mistake me," Xiong Dahuo said, breaking the tense silence and picking up another stone that he skipped across the lake. "I miss my teacher, but I've never once thought to avenge his death. Hall Master Hong claimed vengeance for all of us when he crippled the Phantom Blade Dancer. He told us that rather than burn our hearts for revenge, we should turn our anger on ourselves for being too weak to fight her off."
"That doesn't sound healthy," Wu Ling said, putting the tusk down to find a skipping stone of his own. "My mother was a Worldy Mystic at the time. First and even second stage cultivators had no place trying to fight her."
