But he was born with a good appearance, far more handsome than Cao Qiupu... and that's precisely why, despite his unkempt appearance, he carried an air of carefree grace.
His steps were wobbly, casually pressing the sword:
"Since we met in Long City, we've crossed swords over thirty times. What's the tally?"
"Fifteen wins, fifteen losses, one draw."
Zong Yang stood with his hands behind his back, his clothing not luxurious but clean and neat.
His head adorned with a gold inlaid jade headband, his hair meticulously arranged, a smile at the corner of his mouth, with a gentle demeanor:
"So, Brother Li should give it his all to bring our battle to a close, right?"
"Ah, you're even more persistent than the girls at the Drunken Spring Tower... Fine, fine, let's do this quickly. I'd like to head to the Shen Family for a nap afterward."
"Alright."
Zong Yang nodded slowly:
"Please... watch the sword!"
He raised the sword in his hand, drawing it slowly from its sheath.
