The night deepened, yet Zhou Li had not returned.
Huai Xu sat at his desk, holding a short blade, bringing it close to the light to examine it carefully.
He looked intently. And then he looked some more. After examining one, he switched to the other and continued his inspection. Finished with that, he switched back again, repeating the process.
The two blades had initially been identical, but after enduring countless battles, they had become unique due to those life-and-death fights. One blade was now obviously duller, the other riddled with more nicks.
Yet even though it was duller, it could still cut through iron as if it were mud.
The nicks, though barely visible, acted like serrations on the blade, making it even sharper.
He grabbed a nearby disposable chopstick, spoon, and toothpick to test the blades, muttering to himself, "You always complain that I order takeout and am too reluctant to throw away the trash. See? It came in handy, didn't it?"
