C162 With a Beauty Under the Moon Holding a Sword

"Crack!" "Crack!" "Crack!" The sound of tearing fabric rang out crisply as the blood-patterned black shirts of Wu Fugui and his companions were slashed open. Dark red blood seeped from the gashes, making the shirts' name all the more fitting. These were unmistakably sword wounds, even if it seemed as though a flute had descended from the heavens to inflict them.

Clutching his wound