The Wind Of Sorrow [I]

Cheojing, the Feng Mansion of the West.

In the open and wide martial arts field, a strong and powerful tall man was dancing with a silver spear. His vertical and horizontal leaps were full of fierce momentum. He whirled the spear around and thrust it upwards, making the red cherry blossoms on the spear head flew into the air.

Every time he made a move, he tried his best, desperately, to control himself, but he seemed to have fallen into madness.

Suddenly, with a clicking sound, the silver spear handle was instantly broken into two pieces. The man's stalwart body fell heavily to the ground. Slowly, he knelt on the ground, staring blankly at the broken spear handle, ignoring the traces of blood on the palms of his hands.

Madam Feng, who was hiding in the dark, sighed deeply, raised her hand to wipe her tears and quickly rushed to the man's side. She squatted down and hugged him gently, calling out in distress. "Ze'er..."