A pair of hands, clean as white jade, gripped a black demon sword without the slightest tremor.
Unlike his senior brother Li Dalu, who had a heart untouched by worldly dust and understood certain truths better than Wang Xian, Wang Xian was different.
He understood, but he didn't want to.
What Daoist clarity? What "the sages save no one"? To Wang Xian, it was all bullshit.
There was nothing in this world, no possibility at all, that he would pay any price to possess.
Not even the woman before him, who had once stirred the faintest trace of affection in his heart.
Yet outside the teahouse, that one glance in the wind... Just one sentence had turned the heart he'd only just begun to warm into ice.
Just like Heaven's will.
Heaven's will was iron, and so was my heart.
Facing off in the wind, Wang Xian drew a breath.
In this world, Wang Xian was untouched by a single leaf. He wore only a white robe as pure as snow, a stark contrast to the black demon sword in his hand.
Since Zijing had appeared here, everything was clear.
She wanted to kill him, then charge up to the fifth level and head for the battlefield everyone yearned for, eager to throw their lives away.
But he was different. After enduring the three hard-fought battles before this, Wang Xian had changed his mind.
He was nobody's pawn. He didn't want others placing words on the board as they pleased.
This wasn't the imperial city of Jinling. The thought of family, country, and the world that had risen in him there couldn't stir in his heart now.
He thought of how they had never been this close.
And yet it felt as if they had never been farther apart.
At