Zhu Weiwu's character was one that would rather break than bend, sharp to the extreme.
The Mohist School had broken him once in the City of No Redemption. Yet after surviving by sheer luck, he had not become timid, nor had he become "mature" and "clear-headed," as people had imagined he would.
Like the Firewood Exhausted Spear, broken and then reforged—but never blunted.
He quietly wiped the spearhead, just as he had when he raised his spear and seized cities on the Zhuang-Yong battlefield, just as he had on the eve of going to kill Zhuang Gaoxian.
Then Junior Brother Jiang's voice came from ahead—
"The Blood River Sect is at Sea of Bitterness Cliff. Senior Brother Zhu, I suppose we've wandered all the way to the ends of the earth."
Zhu Weiwu said nothing, merely smiling with easy grace.
Black wind and snow filled the sky.
Yet not a flake could touch the hem of Chongxuan Zun's robes.
He stood still atop the mountains, watching the mountain-sized Qiongqi come striding toward him, trampling pit after pit into the unbroken mountain range.
It was not a beautiful sight, yet he seemed to be appreciating it.
He could appreciate wisdom, and he could appreciate savagery.
Good and evil, beauty and ugliness, sorrow and joy—all the divisions of the mortal world need not, in his view, be so clearly drawn. They were only... scenery by the roadside.
"This truly is a very foolish evil beast, possessing nothing but immense strength, surging vital blood, and a long life." Kou Xuejiao tugged at the crimson Mortal World thread that reached into the heavens with two fingers of her left hand, while carrying a vermilion longsword in its sheath in her right. Gazing into the distance through the black wind and snow, she said,