The man's pleading howls failed to stir even a ripple in Gong Yu's gaze.
Her eyes were like ice that hadn't melted for a thousand years.
Behind her, Baili Feng's face showed extreme resentment. He had just witnessed the child's terrible condition, his heart was shaken, and he felt a surge of compassion. Now, with the robust man repeatedly claiming his innocence, it only added to Baili Feng's disgust. The Mo Blade in his hand whistled as he placed it right against the man's neck.
He wished he could just chop off his head with one swing.
Vigorous Qi buffeted the air, the brutal edge of the blade lightly touching the neck, sending chills down the man's spine, causing his body to stiffen.
Wang Anfeng gently laid the child's left arm back on the bed, patted it lightly, and then stood up, saying,
"Is that your carriage down there?"
The man answered hastily,
"Indeed, indeed! Perhaps the brothers below were just... blinded somehow..."
He hadn't finished his apologetic words when a voice reached his ears.
Wang Anfeng looked down with lowered brows and said coldly,
"Then there is not a hint of injustice."
"This child was found in your carriage."
Cold sweat seeped from the man's forehead as he stammered,
"How can this be? Our goods have already been sent out..."
Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he recalled something and he urgently said,
"I, I understand now, young hero—the car, it's Wu Lao Liu's car!"
"Only his carriage wasn't emptied yet..."
As he spoke, he turned his head to look back but was stopped by the Mo Blade at his neck. Sweat began to form on his head, and facing away from the other men, he called out loudly,
"Where is Wu Lao Liu? Ah?! Where is that damned scoundrel?!"
"Come out! You're about to get me killed! Kidnapping citizens under fourteen, that's a beheading offense!"
His voice trembled slightly with fear. Baili Feng frowned, sensing something amiss. He slightly lifted the Mo Blade, and the man, still stiff, turned around, his eyes darting among the black-clothed men, yet unable to find the few men he sought; his anxiety grew as he called out,
"Where's Wu Lao Liu?"
"Where are the people?!"
The urgent, noisy voice was followed by the drunk man who had bumped into Wang Anfeng earlier lifting his head and mumbling,
"They, they said they had too much to drink and went to rest... Could they be..."
"Could they still be in the room?"
The man with the Mo Blade at his head lit up as though he had grasped a lifeline, turned around, and said in a loud voice,
"Young hero, and you several lady heroes, hear me out..."
"This matter isn't our doing. Shall I take you there to have a look?"
Wang Anfeng got up but then felt a tug and, pausing slightly, he turned to see the fear in the child's eyes. The boy was silent, his hands clutching tightly at his sleeve. Wang Anfeng exhaled, thought for a moment, and then said softly,
"... You come along too."
Wu Lao Liu sat dully on a stool.
He had a total of four men under him, all of whom he had known for at least four years, to be precise, four years and seven months.
He hadn't expected that so much time had already passed.
It wasn't until the daggers pierced their hearts that he suddenly remembered.
He raised his hand, touching the bloody scratches on his face.
The sleeping drug was really effective.
He contorted his mouth into a smile, but no laughter came out.
Normally overbearing and rough men, facing death, turned out to be like ordinary women, only able to scratch and claw helplessly.
Wu Lao Liu was sitting back in a carved wooden chair, idly fiddling with a delicate dagger in his right hand, its blade smeared with blood. In the small guest room, four burly men lay toppled, their blood pooled on the floor, and he unceremoniously rested his right foot on one of their heads.
He took a swig of rice wine with his left hand, the burly Jianghu ruffian leisurely sighed.
The loyalty in Jianghu, what a worthless thing it is…
The brothers who had sworn they'd rather die than betray their older brother, in the end, struck with ruthless abandon.
Without a shred of mercy.
I'll take good care of you all once I'm down there.
After drinking the last drop, he heard the sound of rapid footsteps in the corridor. Wu Lao Liu sneered, turned the dagger around, and, while drinking merrily, he showed no mercy and plunged it directly into his own heart. His body stiffened abruptly, a hoarse sound emanated from his throat, and the viciousness in his dimming eyes faded away.
The wooden door was kicked open with brute force.
Wang Anfeng and the man named Zhao Yong were the first to rush in and were greeted by a scene that resembled Hell on Earth. The blood was everywhere, illuminated by candlelight, casting a sinister and nauseating light. The young man instantly covered the eyes of the child next to him with his right hand, while several people behind them entered, their expressions changing dramatically.
Zhao Yong staggered, leaned against the wall, and turned as white as a ghost.
Though he was a fierce man and had seen blood in his life, he still had the kind of timidity common among old Jianghu hands. He had never seen such a gruesome sight and almost vomited on the spot, but somehow managed to suppress it, only to hear retching noises beside his ear.
Baili Feng and the others rushed out immediately, leaning against the building's entrance to retch, even the Qingfeng Edge disciples, who usually resembled serene immortals, turned their faces away, alternating between green and white, unable to bear the sight.
The child seemed uneasy but then he heard a voice, still calm and smiling.
"Let's play a game… hide and seek."
"I'll hide somewhere in the house for the time of one incense stick, and then you come find me."
Wang Anfeng gently whispered to the child with his right hand over the child's brow, reassuring him. Just now, his movements had been so fast that the child hadn't seen clearly. Although he had smelled the odor, he hadn't realized what had happened and just nodded blankly. The teenager chuckled softly, his voice as usual, told him he was a good boy, and gently pushed him out of the room.
Xue Qinshuang, holding back her discomfort, took the child's arm, not allowing him to turn around, and in that instant, Wang Anfeng had already shut the wooden door, sealing off that ghostly scene.
Tuoba Yue covered her mouth, her eyes shining with wonder, and said,
Baili Feng couldn't help but look up and said,
"Of course he's fierce…ugh…"
After only three words, his face turned white again, and he leaned against the wall, retching once more.
Gong Yu was currently in this inn, and with his Fifth Rank expertise, his safety was certainly not a problem, and at this moment, Baili Feng and the others were of no help at all. Most importantly, Wang Anfeng couldn't bear for the child to be further traumatized.
As soon as the door closed, the stench of blood became even more intense. Zhao Yong felt weak and the nauseating feeling in his chest surged up again, especially when he saw Wu Lao Liu's wrinkled face. The man was seated on a stool, his lifeless eyes now even more sinister, like a ghost, chilling him to the core.
As he pondered, he saw Wang Anfeng step over without changing his expression, treating the bodies that lay on the ground, resting on each other, and the blood as sticky as a stream, almost as if they were air. He even crouched down to check, shaking his head before finally raising his eyes to look at the fierce man who lay with eyes wide open, unblinking in death, and said,
"This is Wu Lao Liu?"
His voice remained steady, yet in such a setting, it seemed eerily unnerving, intertwined with the smell of blood, and when it entered the ear, it carried a hint of indifference, making Zhao Yong nearly believe the person in front of him was a ruthless killer who licked blood off knife edges rather than a clean-looking young swordsman.
Just now, he believed he wouldn't lose to Wang Anfeng in a one-on-one fight, but a palpable fear was creeping into his heart. When questioned, he swallowed hard and said in a trembling voice,
"His face full of wrinkles, I would never dare forget."
Because of that inexplicable fear in his heart, Zhao Yong subconsciously used a respectful tone. Wang Anfeng didn't pay any mind to it, his gaze scanning over the table top, where lay a maple leaf. It was summer, yet this leaf was as vividly red as flame, even more bewitching than the blood on the floor.
The recollections from the travel journal surfaced in the young man's mind, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
Suddenly, a muffled groan came from outside the door. Wang Anfeng's expression changed slightly. Without concern for Danfeng Valley, he turned and flung the wooden door open to see Baili Feng gasping for breath.
The young man from the Military Family had a deep bite mark on his right hand, shaking it violently as if to throw off the pain, while the child was leaning in a corner, baring his teeth like a frightened young beast, with traces of blood at the corners of his mouth, His eyes filled with intense wariness and hatred when looking at every martial artist present.