Yu Ci fell silent for a moment.
As the dignified leader of Flying Soul City, being able to stoop to this point was the absolute limit of human endurance. Being Madam Xia, whose majority of power derived from the shamanic system and relied on external forces, she could still soften her stance. Had it been any other powerhouse of equal status, in this current time and place, a single bow would have caused their Dao foundation to crack.
Even Yang Zhu had to wait until demonic contamination ran deep and his foundation was fundamentally shaken before he defected under the guise of the Outer Dao, yet he still harbored a desperate mindset and never displayed such a humble posture.
Even so, for Madam Xia, who had wielded authority for centuries and whose majestic resolve was deeply ingrained, to make such a gesture—was it easy?
Yu Ci lowered his gaze, watching the hairpins and rings tremble slightly atop Madam Xia's head, her face hidden from view. Who knew what kind of expression was worn upon that touching face pressed against the ground right now?
Was it sorrow? Grievance? Shame? Hatred?
Placed in the realm of human maneuvering, this was taking things to an extreme—close-quarters combat that harmed both the enemy and oneself.
Regardless of whether Yu Ci accepted or not, the "win-win" scenario under ideal conditions was henceforth no longer possible.
In the end, there were only two outcomes: complete victory for one side, or both sides perishing together.
When all was said and done, Madam Xia's actions like this were still extraordinary measures, forced by circumstance, harboring grievances, and ultimately hard to avoid.
Yu Ci knew the shifting human hearts within. In the shadows, Zhao Xiangshan and Xue Pingzhi were also reminding him, the former even rapidly deducing the subsequent