"You mean, if I send you a sword now, it ensures you won't die in vain?"
"You know that's not what I mean."
"I know what you mean."
"Then why are you going around in circles with me?"
The Sword Saint put down the carving knife in his hand, patted his legs, and said:
"I'm a cripple now."
"That's fine. A starved camel is still bigger than a horse. If you're by my side, we won't even need to make a move; we can scare them to death."
"But what if we do have to make a move?"
"There aren't that many 'what ifs'."
"If there really is one, and some small-time crooks come up, wouldn't it go from just you dying begrudgingly to us both dying begrudgingly together?"
As he spoke,
the Sword Saint looked at Zheng Fan seriously and solemnly asked:
"Am I, Yu Huaping, not someone of significance?"
"Hey!"
"Tell me, if I die at the hands of some nameless street thug, wouldn't that be so begrudging?"
"Tsk."
