Then a sharp, piercing sound like a string breaking filled the air, the sound of a sword tip slicing through space.
The thin sword severed muscle and bone with each inch it traveled, sending a wave of pain through Sikong's wrist. Within the blood-sprayed vision, he saw his right hand, bathed in a glow of blood, fly away.
"Huh?" He hummed a tune, as if the intense pain wasn't his own, gently catching his severed hand in mid-air. His gaze carried a hint of surprise and astonishment as he looked at the uninvited guest before him.
"An impressive sword."
Against the backdrop of flickering firelight, the woman stood like jade, with slender brows as dark as bamboo ink brushed onto a canvas. Her elegant silhouette was like a graceful bamboo in the breeze, gradually becoming clear as ink poured into clear water.
