Qinghua paid no attention and simply asked, "Are you sad about Qing Qishu's death?"
"I didn't like him, but I am indeed sad for him," Qing Bazhi frowned, "What exactly are you trying to say? You're not yourself today."
"You don't even know what's wrong." Qinghua shook her head and laughed strangely, "Do you know what caused all this? Why did Qishu die for no reason? Why have generations of warriors died in vain, without changing the outcome at all? The Priest interprets the divine prophecy to guide our path! Why does she lead us into more and more difficulties! Who do you think is the one at fault, Bazhi?"
Qing Bazhi gripped his spear and said, "We all grew up under the Priestess' watchful eyes, there must be some misunderstanding... put down your dagger first."
"Do you love me?" Qinghua asked.
Qing Bazhi replied in a strained voice, "You've always known my feelings, why ask when you already know the answer?"
