Nangong Fei'er was startled. She had clearly not expected Wang Xian to switch to a wooden sword to duel her.
Unable to hold back, she reminded him, "The one in my hand is a spirit sword. Besides, once I make a move, I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself."
Wang Xian smiled faintly. "It's fine. You don't need to hold back. This is the Life-and-Death Arena!"
With that, the wooden sword in his hand slashed out from the most unimaginable angle.
Before Nangong Fei'er could react, another unbelievable change occurred.
Nangong Fei'er stared at him in shock, then suddenly cried out, "Fine, I'm making my move!"
With that, the spirit sword in her hand slashed out in an instant. For a moment, Wang Xian had an illusion.
The green grass around the Life-and-Death Arena withered and yellowed, and even the streak of blood on the ground dried up...
One year, one withering and flourishing?
Or did it carry the meaning of one life, one death?
He could not help asking, "Who taught you this sword strike?"
Nangong Fei'er replied, "Naturally, my master taught it to me. You should be able to guess."
Wang Xian nodded, then thought for a moment before saying, "Go back and learn this sword strike properly from your master."
Nangong Fei'er replied, "All right."
Before her words had faded, she suddenly jumped in fright. Wang Xian before her had abruptly flown backward thirty zhang, retreating all the way to the edge of the Life-and-Death Arena.
Then he looked at her with a wicked smile as the wooden sword in his hand slowly slashed out once more...
As she watched, Nangong Fei'er froze.
Because she suddenly had an illusion.
The grass that had clearly died beneath her sword seemed to have come back to life