Zhang Ming's treasured sword suddenly hummed. The old man stared at the faded concentric knot on the sword tassel and gave a bitter smile: "On the night the Nangong Clan was exterminated, the blood of three hundred and seventy people dyed the ancestral hall steps red. They even forged Lady Qin's suicide note, pinning the deaths of your Uncle Yuan's wife and daughter entirely on her."
Silhouettes of the past emerged within the mist of the cold pool. A woman in cyan shattered her heart meridian before a precipice, and half a blood-stained silk handkerchief drifted down amidst a rain of blood.
The old man's throat bobbed: "When your Uncle Yuan came down the mountain, all he saw were scorched ruins and forged evidence. Lady Qin gambled her life, yet what it bought was twenty years of misunderstanding separated by life and death."
Chapter 109