A flash of brilliant swordlight streaked by, and a head hit the ground with a hollow roll.
A fountain of blood burst from the bowl-sized wound, spraying three or four zhang away.
Shen Tang casually flicked the blood from her sword and coldly watched the headless body crumple. Sticky, hot blood soaked the hem of her clothes and covered the top of her right foot. For an instant, the sensation was like countless tiny bugs crawling over it, but her expression didn't change.
Her brows and eyes were icy. Parting her red lips, she said flatly, "You're about to die and still have so much to say. Did you really think I wouldn't dare kill you?"
Zhai Le: "..."
He knew Shen Tang was decisive and quick to act, but he hadn't expected her to strike with such startling suddenness.
Watching the head roll to his feet, its eyelids still twitching and its expression frozen in shock, Zhai Le sighed and kicked it back. They could bury the head with the body, lay him to rest in the earth with his whole corpse intact. That would be the last shred of dignity they could give him.
As for whether someone might dig him up—
Zhai Le couldn't guarantee that.
He was only responsible for burying him.
"Shen, next time you're going to cut someone down, give me a warning first."
Shen Tang asked, "What for?"
Zhai Le pointed at the thugs, who were scared witless. "Give them a moment to brace themselves. Don't you smell the stink of piss?"
Indeed, the more timid ones had wet themselves.
Their crotches were visibly soaked.
Shen Tang: "..."
She had smelled it. It really did stink.
She took half a step forward with her sword, and the thugs nearly lost their souls. They