Jun Zhantian began to laugh, a bitter and sorrowful laughter, louder and louder, his face filled with tears. He suddenly sprang up violently, his eyes emitting sparks of lightning accompanied by a red shade of blood. Glancing coldly at the night outside the window, he turned and walked slowly to stand before the portrait of his late wife. He stood upright, gazing at it for a long while, his mouth moving as though he was about to say something but in the end chose not to. He extended his hand, stroking the air as though trying to feel something, as though he was trying to say goodbye for one last time…
Grandpa Jun narrowed his eyes slightly, as though he was trying to forcibly hold something back. He abruptly turned away and lifted his sword that had been left on the walls for a long time. His white hair flowing in a desolate manner, he strode out without looking back!
The moment he turned away, two drops of tears fell onto the ground, breaking into countless pieces!
On the portrait hanging off the wall was the image of a benevolent and motherly looking old woman, her smile remained everlasting. But her eyes seemed to reveal a sense of sadness. A wind blew into the room through the window, causing the portrait to flip back once, showing how powerless it was…