With that, he laid the four gold medals out in a neat row in front of him.
Song Jue's mood improved considerably as he looked at the four gold medals.
He sat leaning against a nearby wall, not caring that he was soaked to the bone.
Chu Liang stared at the four gold medals on the ground for a moment, then impassively looked toward the cave entrance.
The torrential rain had been falling all night. Now, as midnight approached, it finally began to subside, gradually turning into a drizzle.
About an incense stick's time later, Yin Zhan slowly walked in from the drizzle.
His back, once ramrod straight, was now inexplicably slumped. A deep gash ran across the back of his right hand.
The gash extended upward, covering almost his entire arm.
Blood, mixed with rainwater, dripped ceaselessly to the ground.
Yin Zhan stood at the entrance, his light gray eyes filled with dejection.
Chu Liang looked at Yin Zhan, his voice slow.
"There must be trust between us."
