He never expected that Qin Yun would hold him for so long, which made him feel deeply humiliated. His eyes, hidden beneath the Bronze Ghost Mask, were filled with rage. No longer as carefree as before, his sleeve had torn, and even the Bronze Ghost Mask bore a few more scratches.
He was both angry and surprised.
Angry that Qin Yun had posed a threat to him, surprised at Qin Yun's understanding of the Sad White Hair Secret Technique, which surpassed his own.
However.
Qin Yun now looked much more miserable.
The once handsome face was now full of furrows, his hair had turned white and frail, almost withered, as if the flame of life would extinguish with a gust of wind. He coughed up blood repeatedly, his voice hoarse as he said:
"What is there to fear in death? Just seeking peace of mind."
A smile rose in his eyes, all the pent-up frustrations of the past five years dissipated at this moment.
