She couldn't bring the sword down.
Even though Chen Yi's self-attachment had been shattered,
even though an indescribable sense of regret surged through her heart, she still couldn't bring the sword down.
She clearly ought to bring it down. She had shattered Chen Yi's self-attachment—he would no longer be tied to her!
She should bring it down; doing so would grant a new beginning instead of a state of stagnation.
But stubborn people always have a fatal flaw. When he hugged her, her sword dropped to the ground.
The one-armed woman cried silently and bitterly. She clearly knew that if she brought the sword down, she could have him, yet still she couldn't do it.
The Ruoque Sword lying on the ground let out a piercing, resonant cry.
"Shut up!"
Zhou Yitang spat out.
The Ruoque Sword continued to hum, as if urging her, as if roaring, demanding that she sever Chen Yi's three corpses.
Chen Yi's gaze was vacant, yet he still gently embraced her.
