Li Wu casually lifted the two swords in his hand and laughed heartily: "That old fellow is quite generous this time, lending me two swords. Next, I'll return the swords to him, and if I find him agreeable, I'll have one last drink with him."
Supreme nodded, saying nothing more, watching his junior brother, who had taken disciples on behalf of his master, lead Dongfang Ximing away. His hand grasped Zhang Tingyun's hand, and the young girl pursed her lips, curiously watching Li Wu's departing figure, her fingers mimicking just now the sword stroke.
The form was disordered, and the divine intent was not grasped.
Li Wu walked forward, finally touching the wine jug he always carried at his waist, took a sip, and casually tossed it, the jug breaking through the air and landing in a snow pile beside the Heavenly Mountain Sword Master.
Li Wu's white hair and beard were wild like thunder, gazing at the sky, he murmured to himself:
