The Qingying Sword shook slightly, flinging off a drop of blood, and the sword returned to being a pristine stream.
Chu Zhiyuan sheathed his sword, clasped his hands together and smiled, "Mr. Gao, you let me win."
Facing a grandmaster, he couldn't afford to hold back. Avoiding the vitals and stabbing the shoulder was his limit, seizing the slim advantage of speed. Any hesitation would have meant losing the chance to land those two strikes.
Gao Jiong glanced down at his left shoulder.
Blood was still gushing out from his shoulder.
Two strikes landed in the same spot, without the slightest deviation. If he had stayed still, it would have been fine; the precision of the swordsmanship was indeed astonishing, something he had never seen before.
Especially since such an extraordinary swordsmanship came from someone at the Innate Realm, it was shocking that an Innate could break through his protective gang qi.
