What choice had Jiang Wang ever truly had?
Back in Maple Forest City, beneath the Qing River, on End of the World Terrace...
The many choices he had today were precisely what he had clawed his way toward bit by bit, striven for day by day, and walked toward step by step.
He had never abandoned himself. That was why he was the "me" he was today.
But there was no need for him to say any of this.
Wang Changji was right.
Since he could not kill Fang Heling with a single stroke of his sword, restraining him to stop evil was a more righteous choice than cutting off his hope.
So he extended his hand and held his fist out before him.
Fang Heling took two steps forward, clenched his fist as well, and lightly bumped it against Jiang Wang's.
Above the dark, leaden clouds, two survivors of Maple Forest City stood facing each other, their fists touching.
Thus they forged this new pact.
Together, they would kill Zhang Linchuan.
At that moment, time seemed to intertwine with the past.
Fang Heling seemed to see his former self, the little tagalong trailing after his elder cousin, widening his eyes through the years and gazing enviously at several figures gathered together, clinking their bowls.
Smack!
The wine bowls shattered.
Those people, high-spirited and full of swagger, headed out of the city.
Were they going to kill mountain bandits, capture great robbers, or simply meet someone in a duel?
He only watched them walk farther and farther away, seized by a subtle daze.
Then, in an instant, he came back to himself and saw Jiang Wang's face—its features made ever clearer by the wind and frost of the past few years.
He had long learned to conceal his emotions. He