He too had received no sword invitation, but he held a place among "the strongest three outside the twenty-two." He had now arrived as the victor of the second southern arena, only three quarters of an hour behind Bai Fei.
Everyone he defeated had emerged entirely unscathed. In the final bout, he sheathed his sword and said sorrowfully, "Since I cannot kill you, I disdain to wound you."
Bai Fei rose then and earnestly cupped his hands. "Brother Song, you are truly gentle and refined."
Song Zhishu slowly turned his eyes, gazing intently at him as he walked over. "Someone who understands me! Do you also feel that, if one cannot end lives with a sword, life has no meaning?"
"Not so, not so, Brother Song. Our bodies, hair, and skin are gifts from our parents-"
Nan Guannu was thankful she had taken the opportunity just now to swallow her tea.
Xiang Zongyuan and Cui Zijie came up next.
"Xi Tianji really hasn't come. Kongtong only sent two fifth-growth children this time, neither particularly outstanding in talent. I had someone deliver invitations, but they politely declined on the spot," Xiang Zongyuan said.
True to his name, Withered Maple, this man always seemed like an ancient tree or an old well, as though nothing could ever surprise him.
Cui Zijie's eyes, by contrast, shone as brightly as swords. The instant he stepped onto the terrace, he swept his gaze over everyone present and replied, "He'd only embarrass himself if he came. Twenty years old, seventh growth, and he hasn't even entered the Spirit Realm in swordsmanship."
The complete opposite of Xiang Zongyuan, this young man looked at first glance like the most upright and forthright sort of swordsman. One felt that if he looked down on you, he would not spare