Chen Ping'an twirled the Green Bamboo Chopstick between two fingers. "What do you say?"
Lu Wei said, "If I can live, I will."
Under another's roof, he had no choice but to lower his head. The situation was out of his hands; soft words were useless, and harsh threats meant just as little.
As Lu Wei had said before, mountains were high and rivers ran long. He hoped this overbearing young Yin Guan would take care of himself. The seasons turned, and fortune changed hands. There would always be another chance to settle accounts.
Lu Wei seemed to have made up his mind, yet still found the leisure to glance at the one remaining Green Bamboo Chopstick.
Earlier, Chen Ping'an had used a chopstick as a sword and cleaved straight through a substitute Corpse Slaying Talisman.
With swordsmanship like that, and killing power like that, he could only be an Immortal Realm Sword Cultivator. There was no other explanation.
More importantly, that sword strike was too mysterious. Its path was like a short, perfectly straight line.
A Sword Thrust Out, its light fell straight down, heedless of the River of Time's flow and the gathering and dispersal of Heaven and Earth Spiritual Energy. This was the legendary point where technique nearly became Dao.
And of all the powers of the Spirits beneath heaven, the one that traveled the straightest path was swordsmanship, which had rained upon the human world before the myriad techniques.
"I never imagined Old Senior Lu had such backbone. At last, the Lu Clan Family Style has earned a little of my respect."
Chen Ping'an asked, "If you can live, you will? Then may I take that to mean... Death is also acceptable?"
Lu Wei snorted.
You want me to wag my tail and beg? Dream on.