The rising sun in the east arrived and shone on the mountain behind the hut. The slightly warm light carried no trace of joy as it gradually enveloped the mountain's summit. The dozen disciples and the master of the Sword Hut all stood in the warm light with their heads raised. They looked just like an oil painting.
At the foot of the mountain, three generations of Sword Hut disciples, sword boys, servants that had served Sigu Jian for countless years, and officials watched the scene. They knew that the Grandmaster of Dongyi had reached the last moments of his life. Countless people could not restrain their cries of sorrow and knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly in the direction of the mountain.
