As Xiao Ling toppled onto him, He Zhen hit the ground too. Body against body. A sharp, intense sting flared in his arm. Glancing down, he saw that his arm was nearly ripped by Xiao Ling's fu-zan.
He Zhen was dumbfounded. His gaze turned on Xiao Ling, smiling at him.
How did he get to nearly rip his arm off?
Xiao Ling had two fu-zan, but as He Zhen flicked his finger, sending a burst of flames toward him, Xiao Ling absorbed some of the flame's energy into one of his fu-zan. He held it loosely and charged straight into the ring of fire. As he neared He Zhen, he released the stored energy. The fu-zan shot out rapidly, the energy's release accelerating. When the blow struck Xiao Ling's neck, the fu-zan raced back to He Zhen's shoulder with such speed that it nearly tore his arm off.
Despite the severe injury, He Zhen's regenerative abilities quickly restored his arm. He sat beside Xiao Ling, who lay on the ground.
***
When Xiao Ling's eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by the sight of He Zhen's smiling face. He found himself enveloped in a pristine white silk cloth, carefully arranged to keep him clean, and surrounded by a display of beautiful crimson flowers. The stark contrast between the purity of the silk and the vivid colors of the flowers created a serene, almost otherworldly setting. As
Xiao Ling's memory of the battle slowly returned, he gasped quietly.
The faint sound of his gasp caused He Zhen's expression to shift to one of concern. "What's wrong?" He Zhen asked, leaning closer.
Xiao Ling's voice was soft, tinged with anxiety. "Did I win?"
He Zhen paused, considering the question. Technically, Xiao Ling had not won the duel. The challenge had been to sever an arm completely, not merely to inflict a severe injury. Moreover, Xiao Ling had lost consciousness before the final blow, leaving him with an incomplete recollection of the outcome. However, He Zhen had his own interests, including a desire to explore beyond their current confines.
After a brief moment, He Zhen shrugged casually. "Well, yes," he replied, trying to match Xiao Ling's excitement. The joy on Xiao Ling's face was infectious, and He Zhen chuckled at the liveliness of the moment. But then Xiao Ling gasped again, drawing a worried frown from He Zhen.
"What is it now?" He Zhen asked, gently tugging on Xiao Ling's arm.
"I haven't communicated with General Nan Xuanjin!" Xiao Ling exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency.
He Zhen's frown deepened in confusion. "Who's that?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
Before Xiao Ling could respond, a sudden, heavy thud echoed through the area. Both men turned toward the source of the sound. It was none other than General Nan Xuanjin, standing before them with an air of authority and presence.