Chen Yi suddenly stepped forward at the words, attacking instead of defending. The sword light cascaded like a waterfall.
Yin Tingxue parried left and right, but was shocked to the point of numbness in her palm, her eyes even more astonished.
Amidst the clashing sword blades, Chen Yi suddenly changed his move. The sword tip lightly flicked upwards, striking her wrist. Yin Tingxue, in pain, let go. Before the sword hit the ground, she swiftly switched hands to catch it, leaping back two steps to regroup her stance.
"Stop," Chen Yi pointed his sword to the ground, teasingly saying, "With that face, I don't want to hurt you."
Yin Tingxue was panting, the sword tip slightly drooped. She looked at his imposing figure, the familiar expression, and listened to the teasing tone. Her hand began to tremble.
She did not release the sword in her hand but slowly raised it.
"I distinctly killed you," she murmured, "I watched you breathe your last with my own eyes."
