Murong Wushuang gritted his teeth in hatred. "That despicable wretch Yue Wuyang—I used to treat him as my idol. This young master must have been blind!"
Ning Xiaochuan glanced at Three-Fingered Lin's hands and asked, "Then how did Senior Lin lose seven of his fingers?"
Three-Fingered Lin pondered for a long time before raising his hand. He said mournfully, "seven hundred thousand soldiers! I watched them die one after another before my eyes, yet I could do nothing. I was guilty too, guilty too. So I cut off seven fingers to atone for my sins."
Ning Xiaochuan slammed a fist onto the table. This was simply too absurd. Back then, those three peerless figures had died, been wounded, or crippled, while that shameless villain had been granted noble rank, enjoying ten years of glory and wealth and becoming the idol worshipped by countless talented youths across the realm.
Was there anything more laughable than this?
Three-Fingered Lin warned them solemnly, "Before the two of you have fully grown strong, you must not mention this matter to anyone. Otherwise, it will surely bring about a fatal disaster."
Ning Xiaochuan and Murong Wushuang both nodded.
Neither slept that night. The next day, Ning Xiaochuan and Murong Wushuang disguised themselves as two little beggars and returned to the alley where Murong Wushuang had once lived. From afar, they saw many soldiers surrounding the entire alley and questioning its residents.
"Yue Wuyang did not come in person. It seems he did not take this matter to heart," Ning Xiaochuan said.
Murong Wushuang said, "Who would imagine that the two people he killed ten years ago are still alive now? Besides, the Lin Xiao Yue Wuyang knew had both hands intact, while the Lin Xiao Ji Hanxing saw was a cripple with only three fingers.