Lian Sanyue ignored him and wiped the blood from the corners of her mouth. She waved her sleeve softly, a gentle wind coming out and encircling her. Her face and dress looked as clean as ever a moment later.
Ping Yongjia had crept off the soft bed in the side hall and watched the outside nervously through a crack in the window. Seeing this scene, he was impressed by the act, thinking that the way Lian Sanyue washed her face was much more elegant than when his Master and Senior Master Zhao used the sword fire to do so.
By now, the people saw that she had a very long hair that fell all the way to her waist; she had always bound her hair into a bun on her head, so nobody noticed it before.
Her jet black hair looked like a beautiful waterfall as it was being tousled by the gentle wind.
"Looks like you did kill many people; you're very good."
Lian Sanyue said this expressionlessly while looking at Kou Qingtong; but everybody could tell that she had an appreciative tone in her speech.
It was a noble demeanor for a winner to appreciate the loser's fighting spirit, but it was rather awkward for a loser to appreciate a winner.
Staring into her eyes, Kou Qingtong said in a mocking tone, "I saw regret in your eyes a moment earlier."
"You're right; I did feel regret," returned Lian Sanyue.
What did she feel regretful about? Did she regret meeting Jing Yang back then? Or did she regret that she had stood up to and become a foe of the Center Sect?
Soon after, everyone heard her following speech.
"I've never feared being wounded, but I've never liked being wounded. Being wounded might boost a regular person's fighting spirit, but I don't need it because my fighting spirit is always high. Being wounded can only make me weaker. As such, I should have struck first."
Her statement was sort of long, but the crowd had finally understood what she meant moments later.
What did she mean when she said that she should have struck first since she didn't like being wounded?
Did she mean that her opponent wouldn't have had any chance of striking her if she had struck first? So all her opponent could do was wait to be defeated.
Lian Sanyue was of course qualified to make such a statement, but her opponent today was a powerful swordsman of the Bloody Demon Church, Kou Qingtong, one whom only the Fairy Lady Bai Ren could defeat a thousand years ago.
She didn't show any fear at the moment, but felt a bit displeased because of an injury. This showed her absolute confidence and prowess.
The gentle wind swept over the square and brought up her hair, which looked the same as the silks coming out of her fingers back then.
Looking at her waterfall like jet black hair, Jing Jiu's eyes were full of appreciation; but it was unclear whether he appreciated her hair or her as a person.
Tong Yan told the Underworld Master that Jing Jiu might like her better if the Drifter's hair were cut shorter because he thought Jing Jiu liked the messy short hair similar to what Zhao Layue had.
Only those on Shenmo Peak knew that he wished that Zhao Layue would grow her black hair long.
Jing Jiu was not worried about the fight between Lian Sanyue and Kou Qingtong in the least.
It was because she had never lost a fight in her life, save for the one between the two of them.
Kou Qingtong's eyes stared at Lian Sanyue, growing more serious now.
A lethal intent with the thick scent of blood was brewing between the two opponents, dispersing in all directions.
No matter how hard the wind blew, the scent remained.
The eunuchs and secret guards, who were hiding under the palace wall pale-faced, found it difficult to breathe.
The chancellors in the grand hall felt their hearts racing faster.
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Sir Jin and Sir Niu had to employ the heaven and earth yuanqi to protect their hearts and meridians while arching their brows so they wouldn't miss any details unfolding in front of them.
Ping Yongjia brought a chair to the window and sat on it. Then he pushed open the window ostensibly with a cup of tea in his hand, ready to enjoy the show.
"I heard that you are the most vicious and have killed the most people in the last six hundred years," said Kou Qingtong while staring into Lian Sanyue's eyes.
"Yes," said Lian Sanyue.
"I was the most vicious and had killed the most people a thousand years ago," said Kou Qingtong, showing a serious expression he had never had. "Have you calculated how many people you've killed?"
"There is no point in calculating such a number," Lian Sanyue snapped.
"Do you feel uncomfortable killing others?" pressed Kou Qingtong. A disappointed expression showed on his face; in actuality, he was even a bit enraged at her.
"No," replied Lian Sanyue. "I merely think it's not that important."
Feeling baffled, Kou Qingtong pressed again, "Don't you think killing others is an honor?"
Lian Sanyue answered after some thought, "I've never felt proud to kill others; but I feel proud that I can."
Such a simple answer manifested clearly the difference between the two of them.
It was like the difference between the sky and the earth.
"I won't let you strike first again. Now you can try and block my fist."
Having said that, Lian Sanyue inhaled deeply
Countless yuanqi of heaven and earth entered her body through her nose and then came out gently between her lips.
The gentle wind whirled around her body, her jet black hair being tousled by the wind.
The tousling black hair seemed as it were slicing the very space into pieces.
A few sliced spaces had been broken by a small and delicate fist.
The fist thrust forward, giving off an increasingly horrifying shriek as it broke through the air; then, the sound suddenly vanished.
"Damn it…how come she is so powerful?!" murmured Kou Qingtong, his countenance quite grim.
Lian Sanyue's fist vanished from people's view as well as from heaven and earth.
And so had she.
Only the gentle morning wind and a few twirling green leaves were present in the seemingly endless square of the royal palace.
The twirling green leaves had suddenly turned into tiny crumbs, flying away with the wind.
In the meantime, a very fine line appeared in the square.
A glow emerged from the fine line; but the glow had to move forward along with the line before it could reach afar. One could judge from this phenomenon just how fast the fine line was traveling.
If Kou Qingtong's thrusting fist could be described as a shooting star dropping down from the outside world as well as an exceedingly cold demonic energy of unimaginable power, Lian Sanyue's strike was considerably gentler; however, it was impossible for anyone to dodge it.
The powerful swordsmen in the Cultivation circle could dodge the lightning because they could see the onset of the lightning in advance; but who could dodge the light itself?
Kou Qingtong grew alarmed when he saw this. His demonic power intensified and the secret methods of the Bloody Demon Church were summoned abruptly, countless energies coming out from his hands in the form of smoke and dust, encircling his body tightly like a black and red ribbon.
The line of light had suddenly disappeared, and Lian Sanyue arrived in front of Kou Qingtong, her fist thrusting toward the smoke- and ribbon-like demonic energy.
With the sound of tearing cotton cloth, the demonic energy of black and red colors split apart straight away and then drifted upwards to the sky instead of dropping to the ground.
Lian Sanyue's thrusting fist was very simple, devoid of any mysterious intent of a special Daoist sect or any true magic of the Mirror Lake. In fact, it was not even a magic move, but more like the very basic boxing style learned by beginners in martial art. However, this simple and basic thrusting fist couldn't be blocked by the secret method of the Bloody Demon Church for a brief moment.
The thrusting fist charged forward without pause. The scene looked like that of a young girl practicing her moves on her Big Brothers in the small courtyard of a protection agency. Her fist broke through Kou Qingtong's blocking hands with ease and landed on his chest.
The sound of impact was rather faint, and the thunderous boom didn't occur as expected.
Kou Qingtong's body jerked slightly, his messy hair being tousled forward, countless tiny ruptures showing up on his clothing.
It was because he was knocked backwards too fast for his hair and cloth to respond in time.
The rims of his cloth rubbed against the air, producing many lines of fire. His cloth was gradually falling apart, exposing his badly wounded body.
Kou Qingtong was knocked onto the palace wall and flew out through the large gap on the palace wall which the force of his flying body created.
Without a pause, he was flying toward the south of the city, tremendous smoke and dusts in the wake of his flight. A great many residential houses were destroyed in the path.
A quake could be felt on the ground, and the Yintian Gate quivered slightly. The smoke and dusts rose on the roof beams of the gate and a deep dent appeared on its solid stone wall.
A ditch as straight as a brush pen lay between the deep dent on the wall of the Yintian Gate and the square of the royal palace, and there was nothing intact in the ditch.
The lower part of Kou Qingtong's body was in the ditch and his upper body leaned against the stone wall of the Yintian Gate. His eyes looking at the sky filled with the morning sunlight had the oddly mixed expressions of bewilderment and anger.
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