The silent confrontation is the prelude to the silent hunt.
Ding Ping suddenly raised his head.
At that moment, the gaze was faint and cold, in the damp air, surrounded by tens of thousands of people in front of him, reaching straight to the Hanyan Palace.
He drew his sword.
The sword light was more powerful than the eyes.
The eyes are feelings, cold and penetrating; the sword light is momentum, superior to all things.
Zhao Zhen pushed open the palace door, and the candlelight behind him lengthened and swayed his figure.
His eyes did not wander around, he naturally looked down at the subjects at his feet and saw him.
The sound of Ding Ping drawing his sword echoed faintly in the exceptionally clear night.
The echo that provokes the supreme authority hits everyone's eardrums.
The arrogance in Ding Ping's eyes when he looked at Zhao Zhen could even be seen by the imperial army - he must be killed!
Zhao Zhen's faint smile was clearly a response - welcome.
I swear to kill you!
Oh, welcome.
Ding Ping jumped up, and when he stabbed with his sword, fine drops of blood flew out from his bloody clothes, splashing on the face of Zhao Zhen who was very close at hand.
No one can stop him anymore, there is only a sword blade distance between him and the assassin.
Ding Ping came to assassinate him first, but it was Zhao Zhen who issued the killing order first.
A duel with no chance and no outcome.
Only when he broke through the siege and stabbed with his sword, the silver-white three-foot green blade that was not stained with blood remained the same as before.
Conception: