The mountain gate opened, and tourists, stepping over the corpses on the ground, streamed into Qian Deng Temple.
Chen Yi waited until Min Ning returned, noticing the lingering flush of intoxication on her face.
"That strike was splendid."
In truth, it wasn't just splendid—Min Ning's strike had ended the life of Luo Sha Li Yidao, a fellow eighth-tier martial artist. With that stroke, she was practically invincible within her rank.
"How did you come up with that strike?"
Chen Yi asked her after she took her seat.
"Years of honing my blade, and eventually I grasped it."
Min Ning replied with an air of haughty maturity, her words laced with the boldness of liquor.
Of course, she couldn't directly confess that it had been inspired by watching him kill someone in a rain-soaked alley.
Min Ning didn't know that if Chen Yi found out she had attained such insight in just a few days since that alley, he'd be even more astonished.
