Then, anything that might cause his death... must die.
...
...
At the end of March, spring rain drizzled onto the small town.
In the solitary forest, there were two desolate graves.
One was inscribed with "Grave of my late master Li Yu."
The other was inscribed with "Grave of my father Tang Chou."
In the tranquil forest, a sinister wind suddenly blew, and a burly figure emerged from the woods, revealing the fleshy face of a woman in the daylight.
Zhao Chunxin carried the Ghost Head Blade on her back, holding two jars of fine wine, and beside the graves, she patted open the seals on the jars with two slaps.
She poured the wine before Li Yu's grave, then grabbed the jar and poured some on Tang Chou's grave beside it.
After pouring, Zhao Chunxin bowed respectfully and said, "Teacher, I have come to see you again. You would never have imagined that back in the day, even a little chubby who could barely master the Crescent Blade, would one day become Fifth Grade, right?"
