Silence.
Xue He’s left arm was already severed, and he was covered in fresh blood from chest to shoulder.
His face was pale and his right hand held onto the blade which was placed upon Chen Changsheng’s neck
Chen Changsheng’s head was not chopped off.
Xue He’s blade energy was already exhausted, unable to continue forwards anymore.
Between the edge of the blade and Chen Changsheng’s neck, an old umbrella appeared at some moment.
A rather tired voice uttered, “You have lost.”
The old umbrella was in Su Li’s hand, and the voice originated from his mouth.
Xue He pulled back the blade, and slowly, but heavily took two steps back. He looked at Su Li with a pale complexion and asked with a slight frustration, “This… is that Yellow Paper Umbrella?”