The mist shrouded the pavilion, and the moon bewildered the ferry crossing.
Tian Liuli stood alone and proudly in the courtyard below, her dress as vibrant as fire, its hem fluttering softly, redder than the flowers of the second month.
Her aura swept over like mountains collapsing into the sea.
Xu Yuan, however, remained as calm as usual.
Tian Liuli lost interest in talking, unwilling to entangle with him further.
She raised her hand, delivering an apparently ordinary palm strike.
A breeze blew, rustling the hair on his forehead.
Xu Yuan sighed. Though the plan had changed, it was still fine.
He was curious to know just how big the gap between him and her still was.
"Sword Control Technique."
He slapped his storage bag, drew his sword, positioned it horizontally, and swung—all in one fluid motion.
But the sound of the sword's edge rubbing against the leather had not even begun to ring out before it was shattered by the sudden onrush of her palm wind.
