The blade pressed against his neck, Su Ming'an sat up straight. If Xue Qixia hadn't retreated in time, the blade would have pierced through Su Ming'an's neck.
Xue Qixia widened his eyes, shocked by Su Ming'an's reckless behavior.
... Has he really gone mad?
Xue Qixia had anticipated that with such an intense millennium plot, Su Ming'an's mental pressure would be enormous, almost driving him insane. The residual harm from the Holy Sword, the severe damages from ten major rollbacks, the overwhelming mental strain from the rapidly flowing time...
That dream was Su Ming'an's subconscious plea for help, he was clearly burying himself, but no one could see a dream.
"You are indeed a smart person, Xue Qixia." Su Ming'an suddenly said softly: "You know that if you wait any longer, you are surely dead. So you want to show me your stance. Even if you fail this assassination, you might still survive—but you only made one mistake."
