He turned his head and fixed the square-faced disciple with a cold stare.
The disciple went weak all over under his gaze. His legs shook like a sieve, and with a thump, he fell to his knees and began kowtowing frantically, begging for mercy.
"Spare me, hero! Have mercy, great hero! I was blind to your stature, blind as a bat! Please spare my life!"
Lin Xuan walked over to him at an unhurried pace and looked down at him. The harmless smile had returned to his face.
"Show me the way," he said coldly.
The square-faced disciple was as good as pardoned. He didn't dare utter another word. Scrambling to his feet, he paid no heed to the dust covering him and spoke in a trembling voice:
"Yes, yes, great hero! This way, please. Right this way!"
He led the way with his back bent, his obsequious manner a world apart from the arrogance and bluster he'd shown earlier.
With the square-faced disciple leading the way in trembling fear, Lin Xuan soon crossed the Wuliang Sword Sect's front courtyard and arrived at the back mountain.
The scenery there was indeed extraordinary.
A stretch of emerald-green water lay between the mountains like a giant jadeite set among the peaks. The lake shimmered, and mist hung above its surface.
Beside the lake stood a magnificent palace, its sweeping eaves and interlocking brackets lending it a grand air. It was Jianhu Palace.
Behind the palace, a vast white torrent plunged from towering cliffs that seemed to pierce the clouds and thundered into the lake below, its roar deafening.
Mist billowed through the entire valley. Sunlight shone through it, forming a dazzling rainbow that stretched across the waterfall.
It truly was a sight to behold: "The torrent plunges three thousand feet; could it