Zhu Gaoyang was just like that.
His hairpin had been shaken loose, and there was no expression on his handsome face.
With an unimaginable, superior understanding of Sword Dao, every time he received a strike, he matched it to his desired position; after each round, Guan Yi would unconsciously strike at the place he had prepared for her—because it was so fitting.
She was intoxicated by this powerful feeling of nearing victory and by her suppression of him. If she wanted to leave, Zhu Gaoyang would burst forth with Sword Momentum, causing her to return to the same rhythm uneasily.
The winter wind from the Northern Country still blew across the Sword Platform.
Strong, fierce… but gradually, within it played the sound of Chu songs.
"Oh, my lord, why delay your plans? Who can stop you from going to the central plains?
The beauties are so fair and graceful, I board a cassia boat with delight.
Calming the waters of the areas of Yuan and Xiang, ensuring the River flows smoothly."
