In the dimly lit farmhouse courtyard, Li Huowang trembled as he pressed his hand to the knife tip jutting from his own chest, staring in shock at the double-pupiled Li Huowang who looked exactly like himself.
"You... I..." Li Huowang, his face pale from blood loss, staggered backwards.
The sudden turn of events scrambled his mind completely—one moment he was fixated on the Red Zhong mentioned in his doppelgänger's words, the next on the fate that awaited his own death.
Just as Li Huowang was about to collapse, the other disciples quickly rushed over to his side, anxiously supporting him.
Long, black fingernails trembled toward the knife tip buried in Li Huowang's chest, but before they could touch, they recoiled sharply and struck hard against that pale, drum-like skin.
