"Ah—" Someone let out a low cry, and as the cold light flashed, when the sword fell, a swipe of blood red immediately stained the eyes of everyone present.
"Clang clang—" The next moment, Zheng Tianxin had already thrown the sword in her hand, "Since it's a matter of saving a life, I'll give it to you, though it's but a useless piece of trash."
Zheng Tianxin dropped a line and turned to leave, the guards following her coming quickly and departing even faster.
Luh Xingze was the first to rush over and help up Qu Xiang from the ground, only to see a deep gash across half of the man's face, bone-deep, a face thus ruined.
Luh Xingze felt an indescribable pity, but couldn't articulate what exactly he pitied.
Zheng Nianru glanced at the person on the ground, her eyes full of blood; she disliked the sight of blood. Prince Duan had already pulled Zheng Nianru back a step.
Wen Zan felt sympathy, but at the same time, didn't know what to say.
