But Xie Chuantang could see the veins standing out on his arms and the faint trembling of his body.
The man before her merely kept his head lowered over his noodles. Xie Chuantang stared blankly for a while, then looked down and suddenly noticed a sword beside the table.
It was already half drawn, its blade exposed. Xie Chuantang had never seen so extraordinary a sword. Its shape was long and slender, seemingly composed of pitch darkness and brightness. Each occupied half, but their boundaries were utterly irregular, like two armies contending for an arena, or as though one side was being consumed.
Still dazed, Xie Chuantang picked up her chopsticks and lowered her head to eat the bowl of hot noodles. When she finished even the broth and looked up, Linghu Qu was still standing motionless behind her.
"Even in the Divine Capital, there are two sets of rules. The court has its rules, and the Jianghu has its own," the man before her said quietly. Yet his expression hardly looked like that of someone pronouncing rules; he looked more as though he was worrying that this winter was too cold.
"If you choose to enter the Jianghu, you must face the Jianghu."
The man finished his noodles and gently sheathed his sword. For an instant, Xie Chuantang saw that the bright portion had grown a little.
Behind her, the rigidly standing Linghu Qu rapidly aged, turning into a dried corpse that toppled to the ground.
"If you're finished, go. Someone is waiting for you at the street corner."
"That was all?" With both hands propped beneath his chin, Pei Ye watched the woman wolfing down food before him, his brows knitted in thought.
"That was all." Xie Chuantang really did not want to tell it again.
"But you