Chen Yi's body was half-covered in blood as he walked slowly through the bamboo forest.
From behind came a faint sound of movement.
Chen Yi turned his head and saw that towering, eight-foot-tall figure, obscuring the twilight, looking down at him from above.
"So, you've figured it out?" Chen Yi asked with a faint smile.
Qin Qingluo approached leisurely, her spear in hand, responding with a question unrelated to his:
"Aren't you afraid I'll kill you with a single strike?"
The dusk sank deeper into the bamboo forest. Fallen bamboo leaves danced with the wind, skimming between the two, as the warm hues of the sunset faded. The atmosphere darkened, filled with an air of menace.
Chen Yi's gaze grew slightly more focused.
Calmly, he said, "I always thought Prince Qin Qingluo of Annan was someone who repaid kindness with gratitude."
"Gratitude is just a means," the statuesque woman paused before continuing, "And vengeance, too, is a means."
"Oh?" Chen Yi drew out the syllable.
