Shao Yŭxuān found it irritating how the general did not flinch even when faced with about ten to fifteen men. This, coupled with the crude remark he made, reminded Shao Yŭxuān of a time in his life he would love to forget.
"Is that a silver swallow? What sect are they from?"
"Fool, do they look like cultivators?"
"Then why do these men have matching uniforms? Under whose command are they under?"
Some guests started to murmur, trying to crack the code of what the silver swallow could mean.
"Hey, let's get out now, the longer we stay..."
Mei Deng was trying his hardest to explain but Wang Tengfei was clearly not listening, he still had his sword raised and a fiery look in his eyes.
"Why? Why won't you lower your sword? Are you that confident in your skills?" Shao Yŭxuān asked, intoxicated by his own inferiority and curiosity.
He had completely forgotten about his objective and plunged deep into his past, a past marred by the one man he had grown to hate.
Yu Xiaoguang.