Mount Fuji, a somewhat ancient yet spectacular attic.
Seated on a chair, Fujinagawa was sipping tea, listening to Qinghe Sword recount how Lin Fei injured Fujimura Mingxuan and two others, and was challenging him to a duel at Kyoto Lake.
His white eyebrows knitted together, his hand clenched tightly, only to hear a crack as his bony hand crushed the teacup to pieces.
Fragments fell to the ground, tea splashed onto Fujinagawa's clothes.
A dozen Fujimura family experts with respectful expressions immediately bowed their heads in fright, not daring to make a sound.
They rarely saw the first Martial Saint of East Asia Country, Fujinagawa, lose his temper, and every time he did, it either caused a major upheaval in the martial world of East Asian Country or raised a tempest across the nation.
In truth, there were few matters that could provoke the first Martial Saint of East Asia Country; if he did get angry, the world would not remain at peace.
