Li Changxing's gaze showed no hesitation or wavering.
The two assassins were both top-tier warriors in the Jianghu, ruthless in their attacks, and the woman's inner strength was exhausted.
Li Changxing took away her twin swords and said softly.
"You play the zither very well."
The young man covered the woman's eyes with his hand, smiling as he said:
"If there is a next life, and you can let go of your ancestors' hatred, how about playing the zither for me?"
The woman only sneered coldly, yet her life was slowly fading away.
Li Changxing sighed softly, and an old man appeared behind him at some unknown time; only he could see that the luxurious clothes on the young man were already soaked and sticking to his back, indicating that the previous scene was not easy. Li Changxing, somewhat exhausted, said: "Uncle Zhou, capture these people."
The old man nodded while stroking his beard.
