Xing Lingxue's eyes slightly opened, shouting:
"An Yi, be careful!"
Immediately, her wrist shook, and her longsword was drawn, but ultimately it was one step too late. The sword shadow merely swept through an afterimage. Three steps in front of Jiang Anyi, a slender man suddenly appeared, as thin as a bamboo pole, with eyes devoid of spirit, like a clay sculpture.
His right hand strummed like a pipa, brushing forward, fingers moving rhythmically in succession. Jiang Anyi barely managed to raise the longsword in her hand when the five fingers had already struck down.
With a clang, that longsword crafted by the hands of a master in the sect broke in half right down the middle. Jiang Anyi's entire body was thrown away. In mid-air, she coughed up fresh blood and then crashed to the ground, tumbling like a rolling gourd, suffering serious injuries in an instant.
This was because the man showed mercy, intending to toy with her further; otherwise, this strike would have taken her life.
