C89 The Special Training of the Military
"You lost!" Nangong Xiuzhu repeated, urgency creeping into his voice as his sword's tip edged even closer, nearly grazing the Adam's apple. A chilling sensation lingered.
"Yes, I lost." Wu Xue Song maintained a placid exterior, nodding at Nangong Xiuzhu before leisurely descending from the stage. Halfway down, a "Plop" echoed from behind. Turning around, he saw Nangong Xiuzhu had collapsed