Lian Sanyue ignored him, wiped the blood from the corner of her lips, and lightly waved her sleeve. A breeze swirled around her, and in moments she was as clean as before.
In the side hall, Ping Yongjia had already slipped off the Soft Couch and was peering nervously outside through a crack in the window. At this sight, he could not help marveling. This is much prettier than Master and the martial aunts washing their faces with Sword Flame.
Only then did people notice that her hair was extremely long, falling all the way to her waist. She usually wore it in an ordinary bun, so they had never been able to tell.
The breeze stirred her long black hair, which flowed like a waterfall, a lovely sight.
"It seems you really have killed a great many people. Your technique is good."
Lian Sanyue looked at Kou Qingtong and spoke expressionlessly, but everyone could hear her appreciation.
A victor showing appreciation for the loser displayed graciousness; a loser expressing appreciation for the winner seemed utterly strange.
Looking into her eyes, Kou Qingtong said with a hint of mockery, "Just then, I saw regret in your eyes."
"I do have some regrets," Lian Sanyue said.
Regret for what? For having met Jingyang all those years ago? Or for standing up against the Zhongzhou Sect?
Then everyone heard her next words.
"I have never feared injury, but I have never liked being injured either. Injury may ignite an ordinary person's battle intent, but mine never wanes, so I have no need for it. Injury can only weaken me, so I should have struck first just now."
Lian Sanyue's statement was rather long, and it took people a while to fully understand what she meant.
What did that mean?
You disliked being