"Zhongyuan Yidianhong?" Hearing Liao Yingzhong's words, Song Qingshu was utterly bewildered. Could there also be someone like Ximen Chuixue?
Before long, a man in black entered from outside. His face looked almost like that of a corpse, but what drew even more attention were his eyes—eyes as cold as ice, as vicious as wolves, as gray-white as snow atop a mountain peak, yet as unwavering as the snow-covered mountain itself.
"Young master, after the battle at Wudang Mountain, the experts of Hero's Island were almost completely wiped out. He is a master I went to great lengths to recruit from the martial world." Liao Yingzhong spoke with a hint of pride, clearly very satisfied with his martial arts. "Yidianhong, this is Bao Erye. For the next while, you will be responsible for protecting him."
"I only know how to kill. I do not know how to protect people." The black-clad man's voice was strange and distinctive—cold, low, hoarse, and clipped. It scarcely sounded as though it had come from a human throat. Though low and raspy, it possessed a demonic power that struck straight into one's heart, making it impossible to forget a single word he said.
Liao Yingzhong's breath caught, but he reacted quickly. "On this trip to Western Xia, kill everyone who intends to harm the young master. That counts as protecting him."
"Good!" There seemed to be a trace of excitement in Zhongyuan Yidianhong's voice. His eyes flickered with cruel, beastlike green light, as though the greatest passion of his life was killing, and the sole purpose of his existence was to kill.
Song Qingshu studied him with interest. "There will certainly be many dangers on this trip to Western Xia. I wonder how accomplished his swordsmanship is. Can he truly protect me?"
Zhongyuan Yidianhong did not