Hearing his question, Tang Lici seemed thoughtful but only smiled in the end. If A’Shui were here, she would surely think—what talk of “willing” or “unwilling”? For certain people, Young Master Tang was hell itself. But Puzhu wasn’t A’Shui. Having asked his question and receiving no answer from Tang Lici, he too said no more.
The sky gradually brightened, light and shadow returned among the forest trees, and several insects crawled among the withered leaves. Tang Lici suddenly said, “The ‘Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven’ cannot take your life. What did your close friend do during the three days you were in deep sleep?”
The most vicious toxicity of this torturous poison called “Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven” wasn’t the subsequent blindness, muteness, and inability to sleep, but the severe damage to consciousness during the first three days after poisoning. Some people never awakened after the “three sleeps,” while the subsequent blindness, muteness, and deafness were merely aftereffects of the severe damage to consciousness. Once a person could awaken and receive proper medical treatment, those poisoned could slowly recover. However, this recovery process was extremely painful, often involving a recovery period of several months or even years during which one couldn’t meditate or sleep properly. Even if recovery was possible, it would greatly damage one’s lifespan and martial arts.
But for someone of Puzhu’s martial arts level, though “Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven” was sinister, it wouldn’t truly take his life. Yu Konghou’s use of this poison on him was mainly for those three days of “sleep,” using the drug to severely damage Puzhu’s consciousness. If she could destroy Puzhu’s mind and turn him into a puppet, wouldn’t that be even better? During those three days when the deadly poison eroded his spirit, Yu Konghou must have done something.
And whatever Yu Konghou had done, Puzhu certainly knew after awakening—otherwise he couldn’t have let “Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven” run its course with a heart dead as ash.
“My close friend used the String-Drawing Life-Controlling Technique on me,” Puzhu said. “The day I awakened, I struck back in resistance, cutting her strings with my sword and forcing out the parasitic insect from my nose. However, the great mistake had already been made. During those three days, she controlled me to write letters, kill Uncle Master Dacheng, and strike down Meihua Yishu with my palm.” Puzhu spoke with a flat tone now, but if not for the heart-piercing pain when he first realized what had happened, combined with his severely damaged spirit, how could someone of Puzhu’s character let “Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven” run its course while seeking death?
“Those chains?” Tang Lici asked.
“Those were put on by ‘Gui Mudan’ to prevent me from wielding my sword to commit suicide, taking advantage of my unpreparedness to chain me up,” Puzhu answered slowly. “That person… probably isn’t the real ‘Gui Mudan.'”
Tang Lici smiled slightly. Gui Mudan appeared in public wearing a mask—anyone who put on that mask and wore a black robe embroidered with large red peonies could be “Gui Mudan.” This person’s behavior, aside from being an external manifestation, might also have something suspicious about his true identity. “Does ‘Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven’ still affect Master at present?”
Puzhu sat cross-legged, his gray-white monk’s robe appearing unusually white against the withered leaves on the forest floor. After adjusting his breath and meditating briefly, his tone remained peaceful, “Besides ‘Three Sleeps Never Night Heaven’ and the parasitic poison from the String-Drawing Life-Controlling technique, I have another strange poison in my body.”
“What is it?” Tang Lici wasn’t surprised. Having schemed so carefully and succeeded, how could Yu Konghou not make full use of Puzhu?
“According to Gui Mudan, it’s a strange poison called ‘Queen Bee,’ but I don’t know what will happen when the poison takes effect,” Puzhu said. “Before this, my determination to die was firm, so I didn’t care.”
“Queen Bee” poison? Tang Lici had never heard of it either, his brow furrowing. He heard Puzhu continue, “With all three poisons present, my foundational power remains at only fifty percent.”
Tang Lici replied, “My abduction of Shaolin’s Abbot is temporarily not to have you clear my name, nor do I hope Master will fight bloodily in the matter of conquering the Fengliu Store.”
Puzhu paused, “Please speak, Benefactor Tang.”
Tang Lici said slowly, “Since Yu Konghou has planted such measures on Master, and Master serves as her power base in the Central Plains orthodox martial world, the poisons in Master’s body are also her trump cards. My abducting Master and causing ‘Abbot Puzhu’ to disappear from now on is far more effective than possessing a swordsman with only fifty percent power who might be controlled by Yu Konghou at any time.” He slowly raised his eyes, looking at the mountain forest where thin mist was beginning to rise. “Moreover, matters like killing Dacheng and striking down Meihua Yishu—if there weren’t inside collaborators within Shaolin Temple, how could things have proceeded so silently before yet suddenly exploded tonight? Before the truth becomes clear, Master must definitely remain hidden, do your utmost to heal from the poison injuries. I will do my best to find famous doctors for Master, but regardless of whether the injuries heal, unless it’s a life-or-death moment when the Central Plains orthodox martial world situation reaches desperate straits, Master need only disappear without a trace, making Yu Konghou wary.” He said lightly, “The Shaolin Temple bloodbath—since everyone saw it was Tang Lici’s doing, then it was Fengliu Store’s doing. What’s wrong with that? Yu Konghou and Gui Mudan only want to make Tang die without a burial place, using such methods—truly absurd and laughable.” He blinked, his eyes clear and containing no resentment or anger at being framed, as if he truly found it somewhat amusing, still retaining a bit of thin warmth.
Puzhu closed his eyes slightly, “When this matter ends, Puzhu will naturally explain the truth to the Shaolin monks and accept responsibility for his crimes.”
Tang Lici laughed freely, “What crime do you have? You merely trusted the wrong person.”
While he often played the role of the one wrongly trusted.
Following him, loving him, accompanying him… none would have good endings. After all, Tang Lici was ultimately not heaven—he was always a hell.
Dawn had broken. The thick smoke from Shaolin Temple’s direction was gradually dissipating. The flames of the Sutra Repository had probably been extinguished, and the monks, their spirits greatly disturbed and panicked, were already searching the mountains. Tang Lici leading a group to assault Shaolin Temple at night, killing Dacheng, Miaozhen, and Miaozheng, burning the Sutra Repository, abducting Abbot Puzhu… each and every one of these shocking incidents was unforgivably sinful.
If before this night, Tang Lici’s reputation as master of Fengliu Store was still questionable, after this night, it would be earth-shattering, evil beyond redemption.
Pigeons flew back and forth in the forest.
Back and forth.
Fluttering down to perch in the woods.
Miss Hong received the secret report saying Tang Lici had abducted Puzhu, feeling not the slightest surprise. Puzhu was “Xifang Tao’s” close friend—if Tang Lici didn’t deal with him early, who knew how Yu Konghou might use this to stir up trouble? Three dead and two missing at Shaolin Temple might already be great fortune. If she had been the one to act, with Shaolin Temple always opposing Fengliu Store, she might well have poisoned that entire temple full of bald monks together.
Thinking of this, she glanced at Bi Lianyi, wondering: I am indeed so indiscriminate between right and wrong, vicious and extreme, yet why do you love me? Since you’ve come to love me, if you ever love another woman in the future, I’ll poison both you and that other woman to death.
Bi Lianyi didn’t know what the orchid-like Miss Hong was thinking. She walked over to stand behind her, draping a garment over her shoulders. Miss Hong was startled and sighed softly, “Has Yu Konghou returned?”
Bi Lianyi shook her head, “She’s been gone for a day and night. Who exactly did you arrange to wait for her?”
Miss Hong said, “Whoever hates her most is who’s waiting for her.” She didn’t elaborate on exactly who was waiting for Yu Konghou, but lightly tapped the newly arrived secret report, “Tang Lici abducted Puzhu. In the process, Fengliu Store’s ‘Gui Mudan’ died in battle.”
Bi Lianyi said in surprise, “Gui Mudan died in battle? How is that possible? Yesterday afternoon he was still fighting with Hero Cheng outside Piaolin Mei Garden. They exchanged a palm strike with no clear winner—many people saw it.”
Miss Hong said, “Exactly, so who is the ‘Gui Mudan’ who died at Shaolin Temple?” She pondered, “How many ‘Gui Mudans’ exist in this world? Who exactly are they? Is the one I’ve seen before the same person as the one I see now?”
Bi Lianyi was shocked, “‘Gui Mudan’ isn’t one person?”
“Definitely not one person,” Miss Hong said. “Gui Mudan has many death-sworn followers under him and great ambitions. Where do these followers come from? They couldn’t possibly appear from thin air. Where do the silver and lodgings for training these followers come from? They cooperate with Yu Konghou—is it to dominate the martial world?” She slowly closed her eyes and shook her head, “I truly once believed it was to dominate the martial world. But later, calculating it out, dominating the martial world holds no great benefit for ‘Gui Mudan.’ Besides the empty name of ‘dominating the martial world,’ what else in this world is worth so many people sacrificing their lives and advancing successively?”
“Besides fame and profit, there’s also hatred,” Bi Lianyi said. “Or perhaps fame and profit far greater than ‘dominating the martial world.'”
Miss Hong frowned.
At this time, in a certain canyon more than thirty li away from Piaolin Mei Garden, Yu Konghou and a masked person were in confrontation.
Yu Konghou, in her pink dress with painted eyebrows, bore a very fine wound on her face, which would add another scar to that face taken from Xue Tao. Though filled with hatred inside, Yu Konghou remained composed, as if she hadn’t been fighting intermittently for a day and night, but had spent a day and night chatting with a close friend by candlelight.
This masked person who could fight Yu Konghou for a day and night, entangling her so she couldn’t break free, never spoke.
He had an upright bearing, black hair tied high, and though his face couldn’t be seen, every movement showed he was very young. He was also extremely patient, never engaging Yu Konghou in full combat but constantly moving around. He clearly couldn’t defeat or kill Yu Konghou, yet with a sword strike here and a blade there, occasionally mixing in hidden weapons, Yu Konghou couldn’t shake him off either.
This person had followed him from a distance from their first encounter. Whenever Yu Konghou approached the so-called “lake,” he would launch hidden weapons from afar. When Yu Konghou pressed close, he would turn and flee. When Yu Konghou stopped, he would return and pursue.
When Yu Konghou wanted to eat some dry rations and drink water, this person would charge up to fight, with all manner of strange tactics—sometimes chopping down with a blade overhead, sometimes shooting darts or poisonous items, sometimes he actually set fires behind Yu Konghou, and sometimes he brazenly poisoned the water sources Yu Konghou drank from.
This person’s martial arts were inferior to Yu Konghou’s, but he also couldn’t be killed in just two or three moves. With his constant harassment, and his excellent qinggong plus obvious expertise in concealment and hiding techniques, even someone as clever and vicious as Yu Konghou couldn’t deal with him for the moment.
What exactly did this person want? Yu Konghou was baffled. She wanted to go see the “water-drawing lake” Miss Hong mentioned to check if it could threaten Piaolin Mei Garden’s underground palace. This person blocked her, clearly not being from Fengliu Store. With such persistent entanglement, did he think that just harassing her to prevent eating and sleeping could starve, thirst, or exhaust “Yu Konghou” to death?
Such delaying tactics benefited him not at all—Yu Konghou’s internal power was deeper than his, so her endurance was naturally better too. Though this person’s harassment prevented Yu Konghou from eating and resting properly, he himself also had no time to eat and rest, couldn’t meditate or sleep. Over time, the masked person would definitely be the first to retreat in defeat.
Something was suspicious.
After being entangled for a day and night, Yu Konghou made up her mind to stay far from that so-called “lake” and escape early. Being away from the Central Plains Sword Conference for a day and night—who knew what schemes that girl Miss Hong was plotting? That little girl was full of tricks and couldn’t be underestimated.
Perhaps this strange masked person was keeping her here precisely so Miss Hong could have the opportunity to secretly scheme something behind her back?
Yu Konghou’s heart grew cold as she quickened her pace, hurrying back.