The gale intensified, and Zhi Mi's robes were soaked in blood. He knelt there, using his own body to shield against the fierce wind while tightly clutching Qing Xu's severed head. His master's soul had already dissipated, and he could not allow his master's body to suffer further desecration.
In a daze, he recalled his senior sister's words. Had he not come today, he might have escaped this catastrophe. But how could he not come? How could he!
Zhi Mi spat out another mouthful of blood, his entire body now drenched in it, looking like a figure made of blood.
Xuan Yinyue swung her sword once more, and with a loud bang, she dispersed the heavenly lightning strike entirely. The blinding light retreated, and Xuan Yinyue stood there, still composed. However, she soon noticed that her wedding dress had been scorched by the lightning, leaving blackened marks.
"This was the wedding dress my senior brother prepared for me..." Her eyes turned vicious. "It's all your fault."