Subconsciously, he grabbed the little sword tighter because he felt that if he held the sword tighter, he would be able to stand the pressure more easily and more comfortable, as if there was some kind of power flowing from the handle into his body to protect him.
He did not know what that power was but he guessed that it was courage.
The little sword was gifted from his senior Yu Ren, when he was preparing to go out.
He read all of the three thousand Scrolls of Way but had never found anyone braver than his senior Yu Ren.
So he thought senior’s sword was the source of bravery.
He held the little sword, lifted his leg and stepped forward. His hand fell on the door and he pushed forward.
Silently, the heavy door slowly opened.
In the bottom of the underground in Zhou capital, a door that was never opened after being constructed opened up tonight.
Some dust floated up. That was the dust of history.
This segment of history was already thousands of years old.