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Whatever the Sword Emperor truly intended remained unclear for now. But with his carefree departure, the chaotic struggle for White Tiger had at last subsided into something simpler. Now, it was only an “internal conflict.”
Ye Jiuyou stood with her arms crossed, sneering coldly at Zhao Changhe. Han Wubing remained silent, motionless, his thoughts unreadable.
But Zhao Changhe did not spare either of them so much as a glance. Instead, he focused wholly on Yue Hongling, cradling her carefully as he activated the Rejuvenation Art to heal her wounds.
Compared to the so-called core of all these disputes, White Tiger, Yue Hongling’s injuries were infinitely more important to Zhao Changhe.
Ye Jiuyou’s face darkened further.
“Just a single strike, and the damage is already this troublesome…” Sensing the chaotic sword qi churning within Yue Hongling’s body, Zhao Changhe’s expression grew grim. “That old man calls this showing proper restraint? It feels more like he knew he couldn’t win cleanly with so many people around, so he made a show of being magnanimous.”
Yue Hongling gave a soft laugh. “He’s technically your distant master. You learned quite a bit from him. Do you really have to speak so poorly of him?”
Zhao Changhe scowled. “I never formally acknowledged him as my master, nor did he willingly teach us anything. Everything we gained, we bled and fought for in the secret realm. If it weren’t for Little Bird’s help back then, we and the entire Tang Clan would’ve been slaughtered by that vicious sword he left behind. I’m supposed to thank him for that?”
In truth, few among the current generation viewed ancient legacies with the reverence of a true apprentice. Most considered them fortunes seized by blood and grit, no different from claiming a rare heavenly treasure. At...
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