We won, we won!
The quarterfinals of the 1996–97 Eileen Cup were ours!
By customary practice, the two sides would exchange a few pleasantries after the match, but even Wei Changqing, with her famously good temper, could not control her emotions now. With a dark face, she hastily shook Jiang Han's hand and headed for the press platform.
"The first two games were excellent. I thought so myself."
"Using the same tactic for four straight games afterward? That was my own choice, and I failed."
"The coach's arrangement? No, no, it had absolutely nothing to do with the coach. It was my personal choice. I... truly went to face my opponent from what I believed was a peak. The smooth opening made me think I stood atop a mountain, but in truth, we were still standing on level ground, facing an equal opponent."
Jiang Han gave her a rather curious look, but all she saw was Wei Changqing turning and walking toward the lounge. Witches always needed to shower and change after a duel, but Wei Changqing would probably be taking a cold shower today.
—Quite a few witches took cold showers after losing.
"Miss Jiang Han, over here, over here." The Rainy Night Club official cheerfully led Jiang Han onto the press platform.
Although her injuries had been dealt with—meaning they had been deemed unsalvageable, so she was simply killed and revived on the spot—the cold-weather combat suit soaked through with sweat and blood clung tightly to her body, making her terribly uncomfortable.
She decided to make this quick.
She raised an arm, revealing her pale skin through the holes torn in her cold-weather suit.
This piece of legendary-grade equipment had nearly been beaten into scrap by Wei Changqing.
But Jiang Han was not worried about her gear.