On the ship's deck, Qiao Sen stood up restlessly, staring intently at the brutal battle below.
The bloody fight below made Qiao Sen, a pampered imperial daughter, very uncomfortable. The blood covering the deck, the torn limbs and remains, and the cries of the wounded made her nauseous.
But she forced herself to keep watching, her gaze unwavering.
Yu Qing was equally unaccustomed to the bloody scene, especially as she had been spending time with the guards below, whose simple faces were still vivid in her memory, now suddenly turned to corpses.
She took down her hairpin, ready to help those guards.
Yu Qing's actions naturally drew attention, and Xuan Ling suddenly spoke: "Senior Sister, you respond to such a minor scene? You're really lowering your status as a True Inheritor of the Heavenly Sword Sect."
Yu Qing turned her head sharply, her face stern, "Xuan Ling, what did you say?"
