"You have no idea how far out of your depth you are. Even Xuanming only beat me by one move back then. How dare a junior like you be so arrogant?"
Song Huaizhen did not even look at his close friend beside him. His wooden, sallow features were like a mask, steeped in indifference.
Lian Youming said disdainfully, "Losing by one move is losing. Losing by half a move is still losing. When masters fight, the slightest difference decides life and death, victory and defeat. You might seem to have lost by just one move, but what you lost was everything."
At the mention of winning and losing, Song Huaizhen's cheeks tightened as though every tendon had drawn taut, and his lone eye reddened.
A single move had decided the outcome. Though he had lost in combat, it meant his thinking, spirit, and reactions had all lost as well.
Without the slightest restraint, Lian Youming said coldly, "Since the old man spared your life, you should have obediently recited your Yellow Court scripture and contemplated your Dao. Instead, you dared collude with the Remnants of the Old Era and conspire with the Japanese. Death would be too good for you."
Unexpectedly, Song Huaizhen swept his Daoist robe aside, his single eye wide, his voice as shrill as a night owl's. "I would rather have died under his fists. To me, living is the greatest humiliation."
Lian Youming curled his lip. "That's easy enough to fix. Here I am! Since living hurts you so much, I'll reluctantly help put you out of your misery!" Song Huaizhen suddenly laughed, rocking back and forth. "Heh... hahaha... You really do sound just like Xuanming did back then. Unfortunately, you and your master will meet exactly the same end, too. Don't worry, I won't kill