Another piece of flesh was sliced from Zhao Jiu's finger, but he was delighted. A hundred needles thrown, a hu…
Another piece of flesh was sliced from Zhao Jiu's finger, but he was delighted.
A hundred needles thrown, a hundred hits. His Laid Bare Needles were finally perfected.
He swaggered away from home, asking where the most heroes in the Jianghu gathered.
He would kill anyone who dared to mock him.
Bound and forced from the camp, Zhao Jiu cursed the whole way. He wanted these blind fools to taste his Laid Bare Needles and lick his boots.
But the one who finally untied him held him down.
This old man with a blade said he recognized the long-lost Laid Bare Needles.
It was a skill perfected only by decades of practice, working until the fingers were nearly worn to the bone.
It is a fine skill.
Zhao Jiu's Laid Bare Needles first appeared at Zhongdu Bridge.
Every needle struck the Khitans' vitals with precision.
He laughed and shouted, "Khitan dogs! Witness my peerless skill!"
He fought with his Soaring Blade until the very end.
Out of hidden weapons, Zhao Jiu picked up a blade from the ground and continued to kill the enemies as he had just learned.
The old man was useless, dying before him just like his worthless father.
But the old man knew his craft; he said if they could hold, they would hold.
The two of them alone could hold Zhongdu Bridge and let the others cross safely.
They would die on this side of the bridge, and the Laid Bare Needles would remain nameless in the world.
But Zhao Jiu was delighted. He was willing.