The people of Heavenly Mountain originally looked down on Fu Mo slightly.
They were all still young, accustomed to seeing dashing and vigorous swordsmen and many bold and unrestrained heroes of the Jianghu. Naturally, they weren't very impressed by an old man who seemed somewhat timid in his movements. They didn't outright disrespect him, but they also hadn't considered him an elder worthy of their admiration. However, the words the old man now spoke sent a chill through their hearts.
At first, they didn't take him seriously, but after giving it more thought, they felt an indescribable horror. That fear fermented and grew uncontrollably within them, becoming more frightening the more they thought about it.
They no longer dared to underestimate this somewhat sloppy-looking old man.
Bai Li's expression turned stern, realizing he had underestimated the True Master.
This small interlude quickly passed, and the atmosphere at the banquet was generally harmonious, doing away with many formalities and quite relaxed.
The Qingfeng Edge wine was brewed using spring water from a sword-forging spring, clear and sharp, and when it hit the throat, it was as incisive as the sword held by a swordsman. Everyone at the table had it, and even Tuoba Yue liked it very much, drinking several cups in succession with a boldness that didn't pale in comparison to a man, sweeping away the fatigue brought by days of hard work on Inner Strength, her expression gradually becoming more buoyant.
Wang Anfeng, however, didn't touch it due to his masters' teachings, simply placing it casually beside his hand, while his attention was on the dishes on the table.
The one responsible for the meal was not a common cook from a restaurant.
He was a rather formidable martial artist who, due to his limited natural talent, could not breakthrough to the Middle Third Rank of Longmen, but did not mind it. While he pursued his sword-wielding heroics, he had the chance to meet a descendant from the Paoding lineage among the scholars, and learned the skill of bringing martial arts into cooking.
Using Inner Strength to stoke the cooking fire indeed made the food taste better and more flavorful.
It might complement well with what his second master taught.
Wang Anfeng silently made his evaluation.
Fu Mo, sitting next to him, seemed to be choking due to eating too quickly suddenly and began to cough. Baili Feng, helpless, stood up and patted the old man on the back to help him catch his breath. His left hand picked up a wine jug, only to find it already empty, and so looked towards the others for help.
Seeing this, Wang Anfeng said, "I still have some here..." As he spoke, he reached for the wine cup beside him. His skills were good, and when he lifted the wine cup, the liquid in it didn't spill at all, as if on stable ground. Just as he was about to pass it to Baili Feng, the expressions on both of their faces tightened slightly.
On the surface of the clear wine, silent ripples began to emanate, circle after circle, steadily appearing from the center.
Suddenly there was a crisp crack, and the wine cup shattered into several pieces between their hands.
The top-quality Qingfeng brew spilled on the floor, and its rich and fresh aroma filled the air.
Like the first note dropped during a performance, starting from the doorway, one by one, the wine cups on the table began to shatter. Wang Anfeng swiftly raised his right hand and gripped the handle of the Wooden Sword on his back, but he felt an indescribable sense of nausea rising from the bottom of his heart, his brain dizzy, as if losing the strength to control his body. His legs went soft, and he sat back down in his seat.
What sort of tactic was this?!
Wang Anfeng bit his lip until it bled.
But pain couldn't resist the body's innate reaction.
A wave of despair suddenly emerged in the young man's heart, mixed with nausea and a throbbing pain, making him feel life was not worth living, even contemplating suicide. At that moment, suddenly a light sound came to his ears, as if an invisible force swept through, the world-weariness in his heart and the discomfort in his body simultaneously vanished, replaced by an unspeakable terror.
Jiu Zizai removed his fingers from the wine cup.
The cup immediately disintegrated into dust, pouring down.
Meanwhile, outside the hall on the practice field, a series of explosive sounds suddenly filled the air, the hard stone bricks on the ground fractured, and the air turned into white waves that spread outwards with growing ferocity until several hundred meters away, then abruptly stopped.
The white wave began to surge tumultuously, then violently split to both sides. A huge black shadow charged towards the great hall, emitting a deep, muffled sound. Even with Wang Anfeng's strong ocular power, he could not capture its trajectory. Suddenly, a figure in white leaped up from the banquet—Gong Yu.
Her robes fluttered, her eyes cold, but rage filled her pupils.
With her right hand on the hilt of her sword, she drew her Longsword from its scabbard, and two zhang-long Sword Qi slashed obliquely, plummeting temperatures in June, as the two streaks of Sword Qi landed on the incoming black shadow, dissipating their Vigorous Qi. The black shadow revealed its true form in midair.
It was around two meters in length, as wide as a person, dark without lustre, and exuding a chilling aura—it was indeed a large Black Coffin.
Gong Yu's expression turned colder, her right hand holding the sword behind her, and her left hand executing the Taiyin Technique with a casual wave forward. Suddenly, the air in front condensed, with a sound like phoenixes and dragons singing in harmony. The Black Coffin paused momentarily in midair, then enveloped by a powerful surge of Vigor, it shot back towards where it had come from, cutting through the layers of air, its might no less fearsome than a siege crossbow.
The shockwave that still lingered in the air ahead was directly smashed into disarray upon impact.
A fair hand stretched out, landing timely before the Black Coffin, and a muffled grunt seemed to echo as the person reeled back. With a twist of the wrist, the Black Coffin spun violently, then flipped to its front and crashed heavily onto the ground. The residual Vigorous Qi pulled into the earth, erupting into fearsome cracks.
A drop of fresh blood fell, landing on the Black Coffin, tinting its color even deeper into obscurity.
Gong Yu frowned, floated forward, and stood with his sword on the ground, coldly shouting,
"Who goes there, skulking in the dark?!"
The man wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stepped forward calmly, revealing himself to be a Scholar in his forties.
His features were clear and bright, with temples slightly grayed. His black hair was simply tied with a blue cloth, a smile lingered on his lips, and his right hand held a jade flute. He bowed towards the front, saying,
"An insignificant person, my humble name is not worth mentioning."
Gong Yu's expression grew colder upon hearing this, ready to strike, but a thunderous explosion from within the chamber halted him, as a dark shadow burst outwards, appearing instantly in front of the man. Yet, it didn't attack, but merely touched down beside him. The ground cracked immediately, forming a line that separated the man and Gong Yu.
The control of Vigor displayed was both shocking and outrageous, and the dark shadow was, in fact, a bamboo chopstick. It was now stuck in the ground, trembling slightly, completely intact, leaving the man astonished as Jiu Zizai stepped out from within. He looked at the middle-aged man whose expression went from shock to calmness and revealed a 'just as I thought' look in his eyes, angrily saying,
He Yuxuan greeted with a proper bow, saying,
"I'm honored to meet you, senior."
Jiu Zizai looked at the middle-aged man, his heart filled with a mix of emotions.
Having wandered the world for decades, he had come across successors he quite favored, like Wang Anfeng, and the man before him was one of them. When they first met, he was about the same age as Wang Anfeng is now, and his temperament was akin. When they parted ways years ago, he had already started a family and secluded himself with a wife and child. Why would he appear here of all places?!
And to do such things!
He Yuxuan saw the astonishment and anger on Jiu Zizai's face, as if he knew what the elder was thinking.
He composed his facial features and fell silent for a moment, then softly said,
"Senior, Jianghu... it's not so easy to leave..."
"I just didn't understand that well enough at the time."
Jiu Zizai felt a jolt in his heart at those words. He saw the once-young man pull out a sheathed Longsword from behind, planting it firmly into the ground. The jade flute was already put away, and he placed one hand on the hilt of the sword, releasing a bit of Vigorous Qi. The sword slid out of its scabbard, spinning around before landing in He Yuxuan's grip.
The blade was three feet long, shimmering with a blood-like radiance, signaling its extraordinariness.
The man bowed deeply, his eyes cast downward, and announced in a clear voice,
"I, He Yuxuan, have heard that Hero Murong is celebrating his birthday."
His voice paused, and the man straightened his back inch by inch, a deep and powerful energy, like a lurking dragon, roaring forth from him. The Longsword in his hand radiated with blood light, and in an instant, his black hair turned white, but his aura surged, ascending into the Upper Third Rank Realm.
"To offer a birthday toast…"
"And to take your life!"
The palm gripping the Longsword trembled, and a resonant sword cry soared to the heavens.
Thanks to Yu Qingyan for the generous reward.