Nevertheless, all the sorrowful implores and incensed roars were of no help.
Sitting in the chair, Yingshan Snow-eagle had his eyes half-closed to rest his mind. The futile struggles and desperate howls of the weak that flew to his ears did not inspire his compassion. Instead, to him, they sounded like a piece of wonderful, intoxicating melody.
"Dear Jing, don't blame Young Master Li... In my next life, I hope I could still be your wife." At the last moment of her life, Dong Xue craned her neck backward with great effort to look at her husband, the honest and faithful true man.
"Swoosh!"
A jet of broadsword light flashed downward.
Dong Xue's beautiful head was chopped off. Blood squirted.
"Plop!"
Her head fell to the deck.
Her body slumped into the pool of blood.
"No..."
