A message has stirred the slightly peaceful situation into chaos. Overnight changes, with unknown numbers of people, Jianghu, the Imperial Court, all eyes fixed on the Western Regions, looking longingly towards that distant land.
As if something of utmost concern to them is there, like a bright star shining in the long night over the wilderness.
The spies, originally dormant, were one by one activated.
They abandoned their original plans, tearing away their former disguises, like shooting stars, heading straight to the same destination in the dark night.
Soon, messages began to return from there.
Seventy li outside the capital of the Changjian Kingdom, here stands the highest peak of the region, called Dongyang Peak. Rugged in terrain, for unknown reasons, it almost never grows any vegetation throughout the year, making its main peak appear even colder and more aloof. Once, a master had written the words "Dongyang," symbolizing the birth of the great sun, on its surface.
Wang Anfeng had been tracing the trail of the Dichi Khan King, heading north.
The Khan King was not an easy character to deal with, leaving many misleading traces. Unexpectedly, after defeating seven martial artists blocking his path, he was again obstructed within a day, forcing him to halt.
"In the name of boundless fortune, is the hermit well?"
An old man in a brown garment blocked Wang Anfeng's path. His attire was plain, yet his hands were clean, followed by dozens of people behind him, appearing kind but with underlying sorrow, more like a learned elder than a person of the Jianghu.
Wang Anfeng took a deep breath and said:
"I do not know you, elder."
The old man shook his head, smiled, and said:
"Knowing or not knowing are mundane matters in worldly eyes; can't we still offer an invitation if you're unknown?"
"Why does the elder block my path?"
The old man appeared solemn and said:
"Is the hermit heading north?"
"I have come to save the hermit's life."
"The Northern Lands are filled with the border's killing intent, and your fate is too sharp. To rid yourself of this disaster, you must remove your sword and worship it in our country for ten years to dispel its martial sharpness. After ten years, the deadly calamity will dissolve, and I will personally return your weapon to you." Follow current novels on ⓝovelFire.net
The old man spoke earnestly.
Wang Anfeng looked at the Wooden Sword in his hand. After the Zhan Lu Sword Spirit's restoration, it was now vastly different from its original form, no longer appearing dull; its crimson glow, even sheathed, faintly emitted a fiery aura.
Anyone, even without martial skill, would recognize the value of this sword at a glance.
In Jianghu, fighting and adventure for divine weapons and secret manuals are common. If greater benefits are at stake, many would be willing to risk it, especially with someone's manipulation.
Wang Anfeng withdrew his gaze from the sword:
"So that's it, for profit?"
The old man remained silent, appearing increasingly sorrowful.
Wang Anfeng heard the faint sounds carried by the wind. The divine weapon in his palm quivered. With a wrist flick, he threw the sheathed sword to the ground, the sharpness penetrating the sheath and embedding it. It vibrated with a resonant hum, the Spiritual Rhyme Mechanism naturally activated, the sword singing like a dragon amidst clouds, exuding a red glow.
The dozens of people before him showed joy, exchanging a look, while at the mountain's base, over a thousand armored troops hid, armed and ready, with powerful crossbows modeled after Great Qin already drawn.
Leading them, a general whispered:
"Once the State Preceptor gives the signal, we shall strike together."
"If we obtain this sword, His Majesty can reclaim the throne from those traitors. It's a matter that benefits the entire nation. Given the King's esteem for us, how dare we not act?"
Halfway up, Wang Anfeng absorbed the sounds around, looked at the old man:
"Loyalty to the monarch is for the greater good, but your monarch has nothing to do with me. I owe him nothing. A monarch whose safety requires harming others should be deposed for a wise one."
"I suppose, to prevent future troubles, you not only want the sword but also plan to take my life to curry favor with the Xiongnu Tribe."
The old man's eyes showed pain: "You, you actually know..."
Gazing north, Wang Anfeng felt, despite the overwhelming force of a strong nation, countless would stand in his way, even if the fault lay with the other side. He looked afar, as if seeing the fleeing Xiongnu Khan King, chuckled, and murmured:
"I think, besides the Xiongnu, others willing to risk for the sword shouldn't be few."
The old man, not ignorant, understood immediately:
"You wish to make an example?"
"But you've already abandoned the sword..."
The old man's disciples had secretly signaled, while hundreds of armored elite rushed up with lethal intent, strong bows, and crossbows drawn, targeting Wang Anfeng, the chill in the air sudden.
Then, scarcely allowing any reaction time, with a low command, crossbow bolts rained down on Wang Anfeng. The old man closed his eyes sadly yet offered no hindrance, but moments later sensed something wrong, hearing only the whistling of bows and crossbows, but no more.