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"Ocean-Severing Wave, Duan! Qian! Kun!" Through gritted teeth, Mi Shuhua spat out the name, each word filled with anger
One hand clutched his throat, trying to stem the blood that continued to seep through his fingers. From the glow of lanterns, an elderly figure emerged. So old that he seemed like a candle flickering in the wind.
With a casual motion, he reached out, and a deep blue flying sword landed in his grasp. For a moment, it seemed as if crashing waves and towering tides were contained within his palm.
Seeing Mi Shuhua’s shocked and furious expression, Duan Qiankun let out a bitter smile. "I'm sorry, but I made a promise to act once on someone else's behalf."
Mi Shuhua roared like a furious beast. "Someone else? Who? Can they compare to our century-long friendship?"
The howling of the wind suddenly echoed all around.
A familiar voice reached his ears. "Fellow Daoist Mi, I trust you've been well?"
The man standing before him wore the same ever-smiling face that had once greeted him with warmth.
"Elder Zhou!"
"I don’t recall ever offending the Lianyun Trade...
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