Yan Chixia had died, her face peaceful as if in deep sleep, the spark of life completely extinguished.
Fang Zhou silently watched her, and finally bowed deeply, "Master Yan, if I do not succeed in this mission, it only becomes an act of benevolence; if I fail, I too shall perish here. Your legacy will have to wait for someone else to continue. If by any luck I succeed, I will come back to bury you."
He straightened up, tore the hem of his garment into strips, and strapped the Sword Box on his back. Taking one last look at Yan Chixia, he turned and left.
Exiting the dungeon and reaching the bottom of the dry well, Fang Zhou used the walls on either side to climb to the surface.
Just as he emerged onto the ground, Nie Xiaoqian appeared beside him.
