The martial artist replied in a deep voice, indeed rising to his feet and holding the cup, about to pour it out to the side, when Wang Anfeng took a deep breath, raised his hand to stop him, and said:
"Hold on."
The saber-wielding martial artist paused mid-motion, the wine in the cup not even quivering.
Wang Anfeng struggled internally.
This was different from the earlier matter of wearing a sword that he had considered; letting go of these things on his own accord and being forced to do so by an external power represented two entirely different realm choices. Although he did not know what would happen after drinking this cup of wine, he understood that his originally clear and pure state of mind would inevitably be tarnished by a layer of dust.
Step back today, step back tomorrow.
One day there would be nowhere left to retreat to.
Now was the time to draw his sword.
One sword strike to shatter this cup to pieces!
To fully express all his lifelong feelings and pride!
