"Sixth Master, should we—" The subordinate made a throat-slitting gesture.
A cold smile appeared on Lian Shengqian's face. "This man is truly detestable. Killing him outright would be far too cheap for him. I want to torment him viciously, make his clan fall to ruin and leave him a solitary, helpless man, make him watch his own juniors die while powerless to do anything, and let him see what true torture is!"
Taking someone's life was the easiest punishment. True punishment was making one's enemy endure every agony in this world.
Lian Shengqian would not let Yang Zhengshan off lightly, so he decided to use the most despicable methods to make Yang Zhengshan wish he were dead.
After that, he wrote two letters and had his subordinates send them out.
At the Xuanqing Sect, on Lingcui Peak, within a quiet courtyard.
Morning light poured down like golden gauze, and a graceful young man stood within it. His figure was straight and tall as a pine, his moon-white robe fluttering lightly in the wind, the ink-colored cloud patterns embroidered on its hem seeming like flowing immortal clouds. The Long Sword in his hand flashed with Cold Light, and the ancient, simple runes engraved along the blade faintly exuded a mysterious aura beneath the dim glow.
The young man had bright eyes like stars, his gaze focused and firm, his swordlike brows slightly raised, fully revealing his heroic bearing. He gently lifted the sword, and as his wrist turned, the Long Sword traced a beautiful arc, just like a swimming dragon flicking its tail.
In an instant, sword shadows flew everywhere, Cold Light glittered in specks, and the current stirred up by the blade made the surrounding flowers and grass rustle.
Every one of his movements was vigorous and powerful, yet