After another fierce battle, Ji Dang sat beside the pond, suddenly looking down and seeing his own reflection.
His eyes were haggard but revealed a steadfast spirit, his hair was grey with the last remaining bits of black showing signs of hardship, even split ends.
However, his reflection was now indistinct, tainted by the bloody water.
They had fought their way here, shedding much blood, yet not many lives had been lost.
It wasn't that the fight was not fierce; rather, it was because they had no real means to overpower each other, as both were extraordinarily skilled.
Had it been other armies, even a thousand against ten thousand, Ji Dang would have easily slaughtered his way through.
But his opponent was Chen Qing, who wielded the authority over life and death—the Chen Qing with the Undying Decree.
Twenty-five hundred and ninety-four years ago.
Back then, Ji Dang was twenty-six years old.
