The obscure feeling in his body did not garner much attention from Ning Que. He even thought that the warmth came from Mo Shanshan who was behind him. He only looked at the sword marks on the bluestone ceiling silently. He thought of how Youngest Uncle had waved his sword around him gracefully then and how hopeless he felt now, waiting for death. He felt ashamed and embarrassed.
Waiting for death hopelessly was a sad thing. Those in this situation were usually silent. Master Lotus did not say anything, so Ning Que did not find himself wanting to say anything either. The room in the Devil's Palace was deadly silent.
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