But—
Just now, that strike had ripped open the web of his hand, and fresh blood flowed down.
At this moment, not only was Song Yu still reeling in shock, but even Xue Xian, who was closely following, felt a sense of disbelief for the first time. He widened his eyes at the person in front of him, almost unchanged from yesterday — equally valiant, equally formidable, equally unstoppable.
However, there seemed to be something different.
Though the warhorses galloped and water splashed, Xue Xian noticed the overly pale face of the opponent and the bloodless lips with a single glance.
Xue Xian's heart was slightly moved.
And the next moment, Yu Wenye grit his teeth, forcefully flipping the Yanyue Blade. Xue Xian's arm loosened, his long blade was lifted away, but he remained seated firmly on horseback, his waist unmoving.
Xue Xian's heart moved again.
The strength of Yu Wenye seemed weaker than yesterday.
