Wu Qiong shook his head, bowed deeply to everyone, then let out a hearty laugh and said, "Scholars are called pedantic fools, but what the world never lacks is spirited scholars."
"To die is to die; before dying, I shall have a satisfying rant right in front of Zhang Zuosheng."
Leaping onto his horse, he followed closely behind.
All the way, whipping his horse to keep up with Jiang Lan, as the wind accompanied them, the route back to One-Leaf Pavilion which he had traversed countless times had never before been so dangerous, nor had it ever felt so urgent—his heart beat rapidly, somehow imbued with the bold spirit of a lone rider in the Great Desert, his chest feeling ever more expansive.
After covering several miles, he noticed the girl's shoulders trembling slightly. Sensing that something was amiss, he raced forward to catch up and, turning back, saw Jiang Lan's face already streaming with tears. The girl looked up at Wu Qiong and smiled, saying:
