This time, Jin Zijin did not use Chixiao, but with a single palm struck the sword from his hand, making him fall to the ground as Jin Zijin stepped on his chest.
Zhu Yiping let out a muffled groan, his sword unwillingly leaving his hand, lying on the ground with a crisp sword cry.
Despite enduring the agony, Zhu Yiping let his arm fall, hiding it within his sleeve.
But the blood from his hand still slowly seeped out, its redness painfully glaring.
Lifting his head, he looked at the man who seemed to disdain the world, feeling both unwilling and angry.
He had diligently studied for years, with his masters praising his keen understanding and quick learning.
Every master was defeated before he could graduate, and he thought he was quite formidable, yet unexpectedly, in front of Jin Zijin, he lost every move and was utterly defeated.
Jin Zijin exuded an aura of hostility, whether he was pained or feeling another emotion was unclear.
