Gongsu Mi's gaze gradually lost focus.
The Qin-style bronze halberd had pierced his back and emerged through his chest, blood dripping steadily from its blade.
A Golden Core cultivator's vitality was far more tenacious than a mortal's.
So he had a long time to savor his own death.
He wanted to say something, but only bloody froth welled up in his throat.
Even as Gongsu Mi's body gradually grew cold, his eyes never closed.
Those eyes remained fixed on Song Yan. No one knew what he had been thinking in the final moment of his life.
Perhaps he had thought of nothing at all, simply unwilling to die like this.
Then he died.
Spare Gongsu Mi?
Heh. How could that possibly happen?
Whether for trying to kill Ruan Zhi or trying to kill him, the man deserved death and more.
If someone harbored murderous intent, they had to be prepared to be killed as well.
Without Lord Wu'an's General Terracotta Warrior, Song Yan might still have feared Left Daoist's presence and set this debt aside for now, waiting for another opportunity to settle it.
But now...
Since the blade was already at his neck, why not bring it down? Was I supposed to save him for the New Year?
Kill him sooner and enjoy peace sooner.
Song Yan's gaze swept over Li Lin.
He did not care what Li Lin thought of him.
Though the Sixteenth Prince was a noble member of the Tang Court's imperial family, seniority in the Cultivation World was not determined by secular titles.
By the orthodox hierarchy of the Daoist Order, Li Lin could, at the very most, stand on equal footing with Song Yan.
To put it bluntly, he probably fell short even of that.
How much weight his princely title carried depended on