Zhao Layue reached her right hand out.
Jing Jiu extended his left hand.
They gripped their sword.
The wind started blowing.
The flying sword took off and pierced through the sky.
An opening appeared in the clouds before gradually closing.
A vaguely visible red line remained in the sky, emanating a faint bloody smell.
The two of them didn’t bid farewell to the crowd, not even to Xiwang Sun, which was impolite. However, there were just too many things happening today, and with the shock still lingering in their minds, they didn’t have time to notice the issue. The way Zhao Layue left without bidding farewell, they thought, actually fit the impression they had of the young girl of Shenmo Peak.
Watching the disappearing red line in the sky, Xiang Wanshu murmured, "Was that the Thoughtless Sword left by the Immortal Jing Yang?"