The bloody setting sun, the desolate west wind, and the only tourists to be seen beyond the horizon.
Sheng Huaian laughed silently in the direction he came from, then got on his horse and galloped away. There was no nostalgia in his eyes, only ruthlessness.
Zhao Ling, if you and I meet again, I will never be soft-hearted and won't be played around by you like this time.