The Woman of the Wen Surname

Amid collapsed buildings and billowing dust, a hundred-zhang giant wolf covered in scales and armor loomed like a mountain. Soundwaves spreading from its maw continuously destroyed the still-intact streets around the government office.

Everything had happened too suddenly.

After the battle against Mu Nuo, everyone in the government office had already been at the end of their strength. Only after Xu Yuan awakened and led Mu Nuo away did they finally have time to catch their breath, tend to the wounded, and gather the dead. And it was precisely then that the Kirin Wolf suddenly went berserk behind them.

Looking up at the giant wolf howling at the moon, Si Zijing tried to rise, only to discover that he was too weak to so much as move a finger.

He was too weak.

Yet after realizing this, Si Zijing instead felt calm.

In this battle between Saints, he had already done everything he could. What came next was simply a matter of fate—whether he lived or died.

But considering the disparity in strength between the two sides, he would most likely die this time.

At that thought, a resentment he could not suppress rose from within him.

Resentment toward that Third Young Master.

From the very beginning, he had felt that the other man should not have fought such a battle—an egg striking a stone.

But resentment was one thing; Si Zijing did not hate the other man's choice.

When one general's achievements are forged, ten thousand bones lie withered beneath them.

He had climbed to his high position by walking that very road.

Now, becoming withered bones beneath the feet of someone higher still was naturally only right.

Watching the giant wolf run rampant, Si Zijing suddenly felt that he ought to leave behind some final words, like those