Yang Yi halted his steps, clenched his teeth as he gripped the hilt of his sword, then untied the sword tassel from the hilt and tossed it to him through the air: "Whether we meet again depends on fate. We are brothers, after all. Keep this as a token of remembrance."
After saying this, he pushed off with one foot and, like a hawk, glided down the mountain.
King Yan took a few steps forward to call out to him, but he could no longer see his figure.
He stood still, looking at the tassel in his hand, clenching it tightly in his palm, then turned back to glance at the mound behind him where the paper money had been burned.
In the distance, on a tree, Fu Zhen and Pei Zhan exchanged a glance before leaping backwards in unison, leaving the forest.
...
He Zhao had already been dispatched to escort King Yan.
Yang Yi walked alone out of the temple, stepping forward along the lane one step at a time.
