Ning Que had almost no experience fighting against a Psyche Master.
However, he did have a lot of fighting experience.
When he realized that the quiet and joyful street in the morning, the hot vapor steaming out of the stuffed bun house, the happy children, the gossiping adults, and the rest of Chang'an city were all disappearing before his eyes, he took the quickest response instead of wasting time being shocked and stricken.
He closed his eyes, drew out the chopper from his waist, and recalled the last image he saw when his eyes were still open, then cut down forcefully following the traces left in his mind.
The dull blade, with chips of wood from the Old Brush Pen Shop, split exactly through the middle of the eyebrows of the middle-aged monk without the slightest deviation.
...
...
The grave before Ning Que's eyes was far away, seemingly a thousand miles away.
Yet it was near, seemingly just before the eyes.