Good kill!
Good fight!
Good show!
Hands and feet used, fists employed, brothers and friends turned against each other, merciless cries for the master, blood staining the Golden Throne Hall, the sound of screams, the sound of falling blood, the smell of blood almost twisted the air here.
Chen Dingye casually taps on the White Bone Pipa placed beside him, not forming a tune, naturally not a tune, as he simply drums aimlessly, letting the pipa bones tremble, hollow deep notes mixing with screams and cries.
Trample on benevolence and righteousness, use as wine.
Into the throat like fire, the pleasure of a shattered kingdom!
This is the demeanor of a hero.
Almost enough to frighten the literary courage of scholars.
Swords are ruthless, blood and tears mute, the masters wielding power, under the threat of life and death, wave fists, rip open civility, trample dignity, tossing benevolence and righteousness, propriety and integrity to the ground to be crushed.
