Yu Furen’s entire body trembled involuntarily. In all his life’s encounters and experiences, no moment had ever been as cruel as what lay before his eyes. Looking at the people around him, whether Fire Cloud Stronghold brothers or Central Plains Sword Society disciples, all were ashen-faced, their eyes revealing extreme terror and horror.

The scorching fresh blood also splashed onto Chi Yun’s cheeks. He gripped tightly that Moon-Crossing Ring stained with Xuanyuan Long’s blood, looking at Tang Lici who carried Xuanyuan Long on his shoulder. Tang Lici supported Xuanyuan Long, his eyes calm, slowly turning Xuanyuan Long around and placing him on the ground. Chi Yun held the blade in his hand and suddenly threw back his head in wild laughter, “Hahahahaha… hahahahaha…” In his mad laughter, Xuanyuan Long’s fresh blood dripped from his cheeks. Chi Yun wiped it with his sleeve, and in that moment of wiping, the Moon-Crossing Ring shot out like thunder, but bypassing Tang Lici, it flew straight toward Yu Furen behind Tang Lici. Tang Lici flipped his hand horizontally with the flute, the copper flute flashing past between his fingers like a startled swan, with a “clang” of震响. This time everyone saw with their own eyes—silver light swirled, that Moon-Crossing Ring flew back spinning from the attack, cold light circling up around the flute, about to slice off a layer of Tang Lici’s right arm. Everyone’s faces changed drastically. But in that moment of cold light circling, Tang Lici gave a clear shout, his left hand suddenly thrust out to parry. That horizontal movement was so strange and mysterious, completely as if when his left hand swept across the air, it divided into three forces in midair, and the three forces each performed different actions, then transformed into three more forces. In an instant, dozens of pale white palms each made palm gestures—grasping, intercepting, or clasping. The palm shadows bloomed like flowers then immediately retracted. When the movement ended, the Moon-Crossing Ring was already gripped in Tang Lici’s left hand, not a drop of blood staining it, gleaming coldly.

“Hunting Epiphyllum…” Yu Furen’s face was colorless, his lips blue, staring unblinkingly at Tang Lici’s left hand. That move just now—if the martial world had a list of killing techniques, it would definitely be famous on that list! That was the ultimate technique Bai Nanzhu used to kill dozens of people at Thousand Flower Workshop, from the “Jiabodhi Blue Sanskrit Rebirth Manual.” How many people Bai Nanzhu had killed with this move was probably incalculable. After Bai Nanzhu’s battle at Shaolin Temple, this technique reappearing in the martial world still gave people indescribable shock.

“Ah—ah—” Chi Yun’s mad laughter, stimulated by this technique, suddenly transformed into beast-like roaring. The last Moon-Crossing Ring came to hand, his arm drawing circles horizontally, blade light flashing with the sun’s essence, spinning like blazing sun照镜. Then with a slight “zing” sound, that spinning blade edge suddenly shattered. Hundreds of broken silver blade pieces, flashing with brilliant dazzling light, surged toward Tang Lici like a pool of sunlight! Everyone couldn’t help but gasp “Ah” in low exclamation. A single blade’s shattering could reach such a level—Chi Yun’s power on the blade could be seen to have reached a supernatural level. Tang Lici gripped the blade in his left hand, his eyelids slightly closed. “Hunting Epiphyllum” swept across the air once more, meeting Chi Yun. Both their movements were extremely swift and agile. Everyone’s eyes blurred, and the two had already passed each other.

“Smack”—a handful of fresh blood sprayed and splashed, falling to the ground and scattering three feet.

Tang Lici stood quietly, his clothes flowing in the wind, his back figure outstanding. Only on the blade in his left hand, fresh blood dripped down the edge point by point, falling to the dust. One drop… two drops… three drops…

Chi Yun stood seven steps behind him, also standing very straight. After a long while, he turned around to look at Tang Lici once, his lips moving, “Hahahahaha…” He continued his dry, mad laughter, his body swaying, then suddenly fell backward looking up at the sky. After falling, he still twisted his body toward Tang Lici’s direction, his right hand raised with five fingers spread, then slightly paused, and died face down, dying with his eyes wide open, likewise unwilling to close his eyes.

Blood slowly flowed from Chi Yun’s crown, but in that moment of passing each other, exactly how Tang Lici had used the silver blade and copper flute to shatter Chi Yun’s skull, no one could see clearly.

What could always be seen clearly was only the result—one life, one death, that was all.

After a long while, Tang Lici turned around. The silver blade still dripped blood, but that blood… did not come from Chi Yun.

Inside and outside Sword-Questioning Pavilion, cold intent was heavy. The survivors stared blankly at the corpses covering the ground, looking at Chi Yun who died with eyes that would not close, feeling their heart’s blood boiling, waves of sorrow, waves of suffocation, waves of heartache and desolation surging up in their hearts. Without knowing when, hot tears had already burst from their eyes.

Tang Lici gathered Chi Yun’s corpse in his arms. In front of Sword-Questioning Pavilion, he looked back. In the desolate and cold mist, among the distant corridor bridges and pavilions, someone in peach-colored clothes stood like a painting, garments unstained by dust, vaguely facing him with a charming smile, full of smiling intent.

The news of “Sky Cloud” Chi Yun’s death had already caused great waves in the martial world within just a few days. Various legends came one after another, but with so many witnesses after all, the remnants of Fire Cloud Stronghold continuously spread the news on their way back to Plum Blossom Mountain. Everyone already knew that Chi Yun had been secretly plotted against, poisoned with Spider Gu toxin, brutally killed his own brothers and allies, and was then killed by Tang Lici.

Although Chi Yun’s death was not Tang Lici’s fault, the act of personally killing a friend still caused endless discussion behind people’s backs. They felt this young master was cruel and ruthless—to be able to strike so viciously even against a good friend who had followed him for many years was truly too terrifying.

However, rumors were just rumors. Ordinary common people’s families rarely came into contact with martial world figures. No matter how shocking and sensational the topics spread in the martial world were, they remained very distant from lives of farming, weaving, fishing, and herding.

Luoyang Xingyang Bookshop.

A’Shui was organizing the books stored in the bookshop. Fengfeng, sitting to one side, looked around with bright, darting eyes, smiling at everyone she saw. Having been brought back to Luoyang by A’Shui for several days and carefully cared for, the originally white and chubby little baby had grown even fatter. On her left cheek was a faint little dimple, very shallow and very small. A’Shui finished cleaning the books and put them back on the shelves, glancing at Fengfeng, unable to suppress a smile spreading across her face. The feeling of being a mother made her completely renewed. Having returned to Luoyang for just a few days, she already felt that all martial world affairs were very far from her—perhaps she would never encounter them again in her lifetime. Maybe mother and child could truly live peacefully through their whole lives.

But one thing made her heart doubtful. Neither she nor Hao Wenhou had dimples—why did Fengfeng… Could it just be that she was simply too fat? Or did Hao Wenhou’s parents have them? Or was it just a very rare coincidence? These slight doubts often flashed by. Fengfeng had begun to crawl, and A’Shui was often completely focused on watching whether she might fall from chairs or beds, though Fengfeng had never actually fallen.

“A’Shui, Old Liu is sick. I heard that distinguished guests are coming to the restaurant today—we can’t delay. Please help Old Lady Liu deliver this basket of white jade mushrooms. If we’re late, we won’t make it in time, and the manager will scold us.” Neighbor Old Lady Liu came knocking at the door. She was sixty-seven this year, her health still fairly good, but she was caring for two three-year-old grandsons and couldn’t conveniently go out. She had originally had a son who, a few years ago, drunkenly fell confusedly from a stone bridge and died, leaving behind orphans and a widow. Now the entire household depended on Old Liu going up the mountain to dig mushrooms. Old Liu had quite a knack for finding mushrooms—these rare white jade mushrooms in the world could only be found by him alone. Luoyang’s famous Silver Horn Restaurant required Old Liu to deliver some to them every day.

“Alright, then please help me watch Fengfeng, Grandma. I’ll be right back.” A’Shui turned and smiled upon hearing this. She had a very good relationship with Old Lady Liu’s family. Ever since being abducted by Hao Wenhou, Old Lady Liu had assumed she could never return. A few days ago, when A’Shui returned to Xingyang Bookshop holding Fengfeng, she almost thought she was seeing a ghost, then actually embraced her and shed tears, which deeply moved A’Shui. Now hearing that Old Liu was sick, she handed Fengfeng to Old Lady Liu to watch over, shouldered the mushroom basket herself, and went out toward Silver Horn Restaurant.

Silver Horn Restaurant was Luoyang’s largest restaurant, usually bustling with people coming and going, but today it was somewhat unexpectedly quiet. She looked up at that golden signboard once—probably some high officials or nobles were dining at the restaurant today, having bought out all the banquet seats. Carrying the mushrooms, she went around to the back door. She placed the white jade mushrooms in Old Liu’s usual spot, signed a slip, and was about to leave when suddenly someone came around the corner from the courtyard, almost colliding head-on with her.

A’Shui slightly dodged, stepped back one pace, and looked up, nearly startled.

It was a young man with disheveled black hair and large eyes, wearing white robes stained all over with garlic paste and scallion pieces, holding a bundle of vegetables in his arms. She bowed politely and quietly moved aside, waiting for this young man to pass. The young man nodded and rushed past her, hurriedly entering the kitchen. A’Shui turned around, glancing once at the kitchen’s main door, and sighed softly. This person… this person was… the one she had privately admired since she was fifteen years old.

Four or five years had passed, and this person’s appearance hadn’t changed at all, his clothing and behavior also unchanged—still speaking so little, still so reckless. Looking at him… would make one feel somewhat amused. She stepped toward the exit. If she hadn’t been born with natural charm and beautiful bones, if she hadn’t been abducted by Hao Wenhou to be a courtesan, hadn’t been taken away by Liu Yan to be a servant girl, if she were still a pure and jade-like graceful young woman, perhaps she would think of a way to speak with him. But now… she only wanted to turn and leave early.

Circumstances change with time. Seeing again the dreams of one’s youth would only make one feel particularly unable to bear it.

“You…” Behind her came an unfamiliar but very pleasant male voice. That voice was completely different from both Tang Lici and Liu Yan. Tang Lici’s voice was gentle and composed, with proper pronunciation; Liu Yan’s voice was cold and willful, gloomy and oppressive. But this person’s voice had a different kind of unusual tone—upon hearing it, one immediately felt it was very kind, a purely sincere voice without half a trace of artifice. She turned around, looking with surprise at the white-robed young man who had come out of the kitchen again. Was there some matter?

“You… are you called A’Shui?” The white-robed young man asked with some hesitation, his expression somewhat embarrassed. He raised his hand to touch his head, then rubbed his hair. “I… I’m not very good at talking. If I’m bothering you, please don’t be angry.”

She almost couldn’t help but laugh. He really said whatever came to mind. Although it was very abrupt, she truly wasn’t angry. “That’s correct. May I ask… is there some matter?” She had never seen him speak with anyone, nor did she know what his name was. Now suddenly being called by him, she was truly very surprised.

“Ah…” He rubbed his hair again, making his already disheveled black hair even more messy. “My surname is Fu. You can call me A’Fu, or call me Little Fu. Actually, my name really doesn’t sound good… Sorry, I wanted to ask you… ask you about something.”

This person’s speech was truly topsy-turvy, or perhaps he hadn’t spoken with people for a long time—even his pronunciation wasn’t very accurate. She smiled as she looked at him. “What matter?”

“He…” This person wasn’t just topsy-turvy, he was also hesitant and stammering. After hesitating for quite a while, it was still that same “He…” A’Shui looked at him very patiently. Not knowing why, her mood of wanting to laugh gradually faded. She vaguely understood that what this person wanted to ask might be a major matter beyond her expectations.

After quite a while, the white-robed young man finally hesitated out one sentence: “He… is he well now?”

He? Who? She stared into the white-robed young man’s eyes. His eyes were sincere and clear, reflecting very pure concern… Could it be— “You… you…” she asked in a low voice, “Who are you asking about?”

He opened his mouth, just about to answer, when suddenly someone in the kitchen roared like thunder and lightning, “Little Fu! Where the hell has that damned Little Fu gone? Come in and peel radishes! Who called him in to work? Where the hell has he gone?” He rubbed his hair again and smiled embarrassedly. “A’Shui, I’ll come to your house tonight to talk more. Sorry, I have to go now.” After speaking, he hurried back to the kitchen, walking so fast he almost crashed head-first into the door frame.