"What you mean, Martial Artist Xu..." Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou weighed his words carefully, "...is that even if the sword hadn't broken, you still would have won?"
Xu Wuyi looked at him, offering no direct answer, but the look in his eyes said it all.
Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou asked nothing more. He took a step back, respectfully cupped his hands toward Xu Wuyi, and turned to walk back to the formation.
At the other end of the plain.
Li Xuangang stood beside Zhou Chen, his gaze crossing the five-hundred-meter distance to land on Xu Wuyi. The young man was conversing with his companions, looking calm and occasionally nodding.
Li Xuangang watched him for a long time before withdrawing his gaze and turning to Zhou Chen.
"Your Highness."
Zhou Chen looked up. His complexion had improved slightly from earlier, but his eyes remained dull. The broken sword had been sheathed, its severed blade lying silently inside, devoid of all its former luster.
