Gongxi Chou and Shen Tang stopped at almost the same time.
Though their temperaments differed, they shared the same pride deep down. Setting aside all their worldly identities, as Martial Gall Warriors who pursued the martial path, they both disdained taking advantage of someone in a weakened state. If Gongyang Yongye had stubbornly fought to the death, they wouldn't have cared how old he was—they would simply have killed him! But the opponent's will to fight had been fading, his momentum collapsing. Put bluntly, he had simply given up. To keep fighting now would make victory more humiliating than defeat.
Gongxi Chou's snake-like pupils fixed on the old man with a sinister glare.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He wouldn't hesitate to kill a hundred-year-old general with a burning will to fight, but killing an old man whose fighting spirit had waned would cost him face. Gongxi Chou felt like a donkey being dangled a piece of meat just out of reach, caught in an awkward position and so angry he wanted to kick out with his hooves. "It's disgraceful for a martial artist to come this far and end up like you."
Either Gongyang Yongye won, or Gongyang Yongye died in battle.
The old man had chosen to give up.
Gongyang Yongye gazed into the distant, shadowy valley. He raised a hand and ran his thumb over the scarred edge of his blade. Even Gongxi Chou's taunts couldn't stir his anger. "This old man has practiced martial arts for decades, swung his blade for decades, pursued the Dao for decades. A hundred years have passed in a blur..."
Shen Tang cut off his solemn reflection.
"Is this the first time a young person has shattered your confidence?"
She could understand how Gongyang Yongye felt.
It was like a genius