Of the twenty-odd Hall Masters, half plunged into the rushing river, searching for their missing comrades, whose chances of survival were slim.
On the riverbank, Fan Hainie held the saber and throwing knife they had fished out. His eyes were filled with the sorrow of "the tower lord dying midway through his great undertaking," and he felt that the Blood Rain Tower's allotted days might truly have run out.
As he silently lamented this, footsteps sounded behind him.
Fan Hainie looked back and saw that a man in white robes had already approached:
"That man had a solid foundation. He appeared to have reached Transcendent Grade. Perhaps he survived one blow from me and fled with serious injuries."
Back when Fan Hainie had run his "on-demand fighting service," he had actually met Xie Jinhuan once. Now, however, he did not even dare look this formidable gentleman in the eye, let alone invoke their past acquaintance. He hurriedly turned and cupped his hands, speaking with his heart in his mouth:
"That's good, then. He has only himself to blame for this. He was clearly pledging his loyalty to you, yet he insisted on running. And as for Shen Jinyu, he had acted arbitrarily for years. The tower had long suffered under him. We had already wanted to expel him from the Blood Rain Tower, but we couldn't stand against him and never found an opportunity.
"Lord Xie, you've rid the people of a scourge. We don't even know how to thank you-"
Xie Jinhuan had no interest in stooping to the level of these small fry. He had only come over to make a few arrangements, and answered calmly:
"Since you know which way the wind blows, I won't hold this against you. But though you may escape death, you cannot