It was the dead of night, pitch-black outside. So in Murong Brothers' eyes, Duan Yun had rushed out to look for his little sister.
He had once been like that too, as if he had lived in spring forever, his heart restless and impatient, and before long he had found his "fated one."
Duan Yun's condition should have been even worse. After all, in less than one night, that fellow had rocketed all the way to the realm of Seventh Spring Rain.
He could no longer care whether that speed was absurd or unreasonable.
If he kept agonizing over it, he would probably go mad.
He only knew that Duan Yun's Twelvefold Spring Rain had advanced with terrifying ferocity, so ferocious it defied belief. Then what about the curse that fellow had suffered?
It had to be terrifying too, right?
It couldn't be that only I was cursed while that fellow was perfectly fine, could it?
Thinking of how he, the "famous teacher," was still unsteady at Sixth Spring Rain while Duan Yun, the one he had instructed, had already reached Seventh Spring Rain, Murong Brothers' emotions became complicated.
Before this, he had been waiting to die here at Jade Pearl Manor, as though he had seen through everything.
But tonight, after watching himself be surpassed with his own eyes, he ultimately could not remain calm. A faint competitive spirit rose within him, and he was no longer as tranquil as a sage.
After all, that was the blade path he was proudest of!
Thus, in the night, Murong Brothers began carefully recalling the details he had witnessed earlier. Puzzled, he said, "What he shouted then was 'He cursed it'? Does shouting 'He cursed it!' make one's blade techniques improve by leaps and bounds?"
"**He cursed it! Twelvefold Spring Rain,