Sword Master for Nine Thousand Years

Tangled on the blue-black cliff, water droplets condensed and fell towards the surface of the pool. Shen Yan was lying on the bluestone beside the pool. The wound on his chest was still oozing blood, but the pool water in his sight was gradually clearing up. The iron sword with three broken parts sank at the bottom of the pool, and the rust on the sword's spine was being rubbed into tiny pieces by the water.