Beichen gripped his spear tightly, its butt end driving a deep crater into the ground. If not for the Pure Moon Heart-Cleansing Spell, he feared he would have ended up just like the Golden House—unable to withstand even a few of Shen Bai's sword strikes.
Changsun Xuan coughed up blood and stumbled backward. Cracks webbed across the writing brush in his left hand, while the book in his right lost its luster. A single move had shattered his Golden House. He had lost.
Shen Bai stood with his sword drawn, gazing at the crumbling Golden House. "Brother Changsun, yield."
Xuan sighed. He stowed away his brush and book, then cupped his hands in salute. "I have lost, and I concede wholeheartedly. Brother Shen's sword is truly unmatched in this world."
Scholars possessed their own integrity; a loss was a loss, and there was nothing more to be said.
