Makeup Chapter 16

The night wind is very strong.

It was the middle of the night. Sujian Mountain and Fanli Village were less than a day's walk apart, and the weather and landscape were likely the same. At this time of day in the past, Meng Shizhuang might have been irritating Lao Hu, tending to Lao Ju's cough, practicing swordplay, or simply collapsed from a day of beatings... In short, she'd never noticed the subtle night breeze.

The sound of it pouring into his ears was like mourning for him in advance.

Meng Shizhuang lay in the haystack, a bone-chilling chill grazing across the thin straw against his back. Half-conscious, he spotted a forked river. The water was a dangerous dark blue, the waves surging. He took several steps back, only to feel a dampness creep up his palms. Looking down, he found himself in the middle of this dark river!

The river was surging with the current, along with pieces of rotting flesh. Meng Shizhuang couldn't stand in the turbulent water and stumbled a few times before falling in.

The fishy-smelling water rushed into his mouth and nose. Meng Shizhuang struggled, and a feeling of suffocation spread from his chest. He suddenly woke up.

Before my eyes was an old wooden board, not nailed evenly together, through one or two cracks I could glimpse the pitch-black night.

Meng Shizhuang's right hand couldn't move at all. The intense pain made him faint, yet also urged him to wake up. The sound of water dripping fell in the silence. It turned out that the wetness on his palm in his dream was not fake. It was his blood.

He turned his head with difficulty, and Su Jian was lying within his sight.

Just like the other days, he and Lao Ju were angry and slept in the outer room, and before going to sleep, he would throw his sword to vent his anger.

If it weren't for the pain in his right hand, he would have really thought that the hand that Lao Hu pointed at him not long ago was an imagination.

Luo Shun laughed heartily at Lao Hu's choice, resuming his long, thin voice. "It's normal for fellow disciples to quarrel and fight, but you resorted to brutal violence. Harming a fellow disciple is punishable by the sect's rules. You should be stripped of your martial arts and expelled."

He raised his chin slightly and glanced at Meng Shizhuang.

If Meng Shizhuang had no hatred towards Luo Shun, he might have mobilized all his emotions to empathize with the look that was so bright and shocking in the firelight, so satisfying, so full of revenge... and the exhausted ashes left after the wanton burning.

Even after trying every possible means to achieve my goal, I still feel lonely.

What a poor person.

Unfortunately, he was the one who got his “great revenge”.

He was born in the embers of generations of grievances on Sujian Mountain. Some turned a blind eye to these ashes, some trampled them with all their might, and some desperately tried to extinguish the last spark. But a spark that remained unextinguished for thirteen years, and no rain could extinguish it, could only mean one thing.

The embers will rekindle and eventually spread to the whole prairie.

Luo Shun casually determined his fate. The Sujian Mountain disciples who had followed him saw Ke Congzhou's sword still dripping with blood, but they had no doubts. While they didn't raise their arms to jeer, they also didn't object to Luo Shun's statement that "bickering and fighting among fellow disciples is normal."

The people in the mountains were originally "bickering and fighting" with Meng Shizhuang.

The gap between Ke Congzhou's childhood and present life suddenly vanished when Old Hu made his choice. He no longer worried about gains and losses, and he could no longer undo the words he hadn't said today. No one noticed his movement to speak, but after Luo Shun raised his hand, the hall masters acted faster than the disciples.

He raised his sword and was about to step forward, but two hall masters had already stood between him and Lao Hu.

Meng Shizhuang stepped back, holding his sword, ready to unsheathe. A few paces away, Luo Shun raised his palm, a wind emanating from his wide sleeves, striking Meng Shizhuang at the elbow, halting his sword-drawing motion. Someone struck him mercilessly in the back, causing Meng Shizhuang to vomit blood.

The internal energy rushed through his meridians, and his ears made a sharp ringing sound at that moment, and blood spurted out.

This "appetizer" successfully blurred the pain that followed.

He was unable to react. The golden light in front of his eyes flashed until it turned black. He could not see clearly who picked up the white sword and smashed it down from the back of his right palm, breaking the metacarpal bone.

Meng Shizhuang tried to move his right arm.

The pain in his hand made the rest of his limbs numb. He closed his eyes and felt for a while. Above his wrist, everything was normal.

He couldn't remember what happened next, but he was dragged up from the ground and pushed forward.

A voice said, "After all, this is your Sujian Mountain's business. If you want to deal with it, it's better to return to your sect. Please show mercy tonight. If he really died in Fanli Village, I really don't know what to do."

Meng Shizhuang stared blankly at the wooden boards on the roof.

I don’t know if I can see Lao Ju again.

At this time, human voices were heard in the quiet night.

He tilted his head and put one ear to the ground.

It was the people guarding him outside.

This room was allocated by Fanli Village as a temporary place for Meng Shizhuang to be held captive. It was a very simple woodshed.

"Thank you for your hard work, brothers from Sujian Mountain. It's all due to our poor patrolling, and the owner of the manor has already punished us. We have prepared some snacks for you brothers, so please enjoy them before you come back. We will guard this place well."

A voice at the door declined a few times, then thanked me repeatedly.

Then there were the sounds of departing footsteps.

Then, there was another sound of footsteps coming from far away.

Meng Shizhuang seemed to have sensed something, so he supported himself on the ground with his left hand and slowly raised his body.

Sure enough, the door of the woodshed was opened the next moment.

Meng Shizhuang looked up and saw a man in purple clothes walking in under the cold moonlight, giving him a friendly smile.

-

Meng Shizhuang walked down the mountain and walked back - with her hands tied together with the dozen jars of fine wine that Fanlizhuang had given to Sujian Mountain.

He was silent the entire time. Not only in his voice, but also in his eyes.

After dawn, the door of the woodshed opened with a dignified look, and he was tucked away like fish among the dead things. Many people came to him, perhaps to gloat over his misfortune, perhaps to make him feel guilty.

But his eyes were only fixed on his limp right hand.

He received no response from the outside world.

This time when I returned to the mountain, I still took the road to the office.

They hadn't even passed through the twelve gates yet, but they were already in their own territory. The disciples all breathed a sigh of relief, laughing and joking, all without a proper manner. Meng Shi stood among the wine jars like a cosmetic ornament, still looking at her hands.

The disciples of this sect were newly assigned and had only been on the job for a short time. Seeing Meng Shizhuang's appearance, he was very curious about what had happened after he came down the mountain. Coincidentally, there was someone he knew in the team, and they exchanged glances and started to argue.

There was a clepsydra next to him, and water droplets splashed and fell into the copper pot below, sounding like the clear chirping of birds.

After he'd opened the first valve, he began to lose focus. Finally, after checking in with his companions, he turned back to find the clepsydra had already run dry. He glanced guiltily around and began fiddling with the middle valve. After calming himself, he fiddled with the first valve again, and the clepsydra began to drip again.

This time, without waiting for the dripping water to run out, he opened the last valve, and the front door and the outer mountain gate opened.

Meng Shizhuang's eyes rolled slightly.

Someone beside him muttered, "The mechanism of this mountain gate is truly mysterious. I specifically memorized how it opened when I left the mountain, but when I came back it was completely different. Even the length of the dripping water was different."

His companions scoffed, "If it were really that simple, why doesn't Qianji Hall have a successor yet?"

After passing through the twelve gates, there were many disciples coming and going.

Seeing that the team was in such a strange shape, he stopped doing his work and just slipped behind to follow.

Luo Shun acted as if he hadn't noticed, and without calling for a dismissal, he walked straight to the Lingyun training grounds and ordered his disciples to untie the ropes binding Meng Shizhuang. He stood before Meng Shizhuang and said, "Meng Shizhuang, I said yesterday, 'We'll fight next time.' Now I'm giving you one last chance. Do you want to fight?"

Meng Shizhuang raised her head and her eyes met his.

Luo Shun was obviously very pleased: "You should know in your heart that your current situation is not entirely my fault."

Meng Shizhuang didn't waste any time and asked him, "Where is my sword?"

This is what we have to fight.

Luo Shun heard Meng Shizhuang's hoarse voice and frowned unintentionally, "Yes."

A disciple from behind handed over a sword.

Back in his own place, Lao Hu didn't need to be afraid to act rashly. He didn't dare to face Meng Shizhuang, and he just kept repeating the same old things: "Luo Shun, what do you want? Now that there are no outsiders, you should know exactly what's going on in Fanli Village. Do you still want to use this to harm him?"

Luo Shun laughed and looked at Lao Hu in surprise. "Master, what exactly happened? If Zhang Jun wasn't killed by Meng Shizhuang, who was it?"

Lao Hu's face froze.

Dozens of disciples surrounded them, their ears stretched out to hear even the occasional sound of a mosquito.

He looked at the satisfaction in Luo Shun's eyes and finally understood what it felt like to connect one thing to another, like a person who had been drowning in water for a long time, struggling to float to the surface and finally knowing where he was.

Luo Shun told him and Ke Congzhou the truth: "I told Meng Shizhuang that as long as he can defeat Ke Congzhou with the white sword, I will let him and Lao Ju go down the mountain."

He squinted his eyes and said, "Master, I won't break my promise. When I came down the mountain, I said I would never lay a hand on him. You see, I didn't lie."

Lao Hu's throat felt like it was being strangled, and his chest heaved violently, even more violently than Lao Ju's cough, like a broken bellows. His whole body was tense, and he made way for Meng Shizhuang to go up on stage.

On the stage, Ke Congzhou wasn't facing Meng Shizhuang. He looked at the hall master and his fellow apprentices, made up his mind, and bowed to everyone. He said, "Masters and hall masters, please allow me to report that last night at Fanli Village, it was me..."

Before he could finish his words, he saw fear in the eyes of the people below.

These scares almost saved his life - Meng Shizhuang over there slowly untied his shirt when he came on stage. He should have been in a panic the first time, but his left hand was very obedient and used the thin shirt to wrap the sword and palm in an orderly manner.

Then he hit Ke Congzhou's head with a "Canglang style" attack.

This move was extraordinary, it completely eliminated all his skill and left him with only brute force. Ke Congzhou dodged it in a panic, and looking back he saw strands of his black hair falling down. He felt his cheek was wet, and when he reached out to touch it, he found that half of his face skin had been peeled off.

Ke Congzhou was caught between two attacks, and while dodging, he caught a glimpse of Meng Shizhuang's face. It was surprisingly calm, without a trace of anger. But the sword move he was about to strike at him showed that she wasn't even angry, but simply wanted to send him to the afterlife.

He couldn't help but roll on the ground a few times, drew out his two swords, and struggled to stand up. He wanted to talk to Meng Shizhuang: "Senior Sister Meng..."

Ke Congzhou's words got stuck in his throat.

Meng Shizhuang's only outer garment, used to wrap his sword, now left his upper body bare. Had this body been a little darker, it would have been quite hideous. The bones were clearly visible, covered in scars and bruises of various colors. His abdomen was sunken, making the ribs above appear particularly conspicuous.

Moreover, this is a man's body.

Ke Congzhou's tongue and brain were disconnected, his body moved faster, and he subconsciously dodged a few more swords.

A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, causing him to sweat even more than the movements of his body. Ke had been dodging and hiding from Meng Shizhuang on Monday, unwilling to actually fight her. Meng Shizhuang also saw him avoiding a fight, but she showed no mercy with her sword.

The sword and his injured hand were entangled, preventing him from performing many of his moves, so he resorted to brute force. Ke Congzhou tried to escape and leave the stage, but his right hand had been replaced with his original "left sword," which had been severed. He couldn't control it properly, and when he raised his sword to block Meng Shizhuang's "Ripple," his white sword grazed the broken part of the "left sword"—

This time, Ke Congzhou saw Meng Shizhuang's eyes clearly.

It's not that he isn't angry, the anger in his eyes turned into murderous intent.

The sword was aimed at Ke Congzhou's neck.

Ke Congzhou's hands and feet felt weaker than ever before.

It turns out that people who owe debts still cannot die calmly.

“Keng——”

Ke Congzhou didn't have time to close his eyes before the flying scabbard knocked the plain sword in Meng Shizhuang's hand off balance. Because she couldn't retract her force in time, Meng Shizhuang was thrown off the stage. Ke Congzhou had a narrow escape, covering his neck with one hand while subconsciously looking at Lao Hu.

Lao Hu had not yet retracted his hand from the scabbard.

Ke Congzhou panicked: "Master..."

The strike Meng Shizhuang had blocked was not to be underestimated. The force in the scabbard was considerable, striking the plain sword without any buffer, the force rippling along the blade's shaft into his untrained hand. His entire right arm went numb, and he could even hear the crackling of the shattered bones in his palm, dancing freely within his flesh, responsive to the external force.

He was in so much pain that he couldn't control his expression, his eyes and teeth were clenched tightly.

He fell backwards on the stage and couldn't recover for a long time.

Several hands came to help him, but he pushed them away with his left hand.

Lao Hu could only retreat with the help of Meng Shizhuang's strength.

Then, he saw Meng Shizhuang staggering to his knees, his forehead resting on the hilt of his sword, and suddenly spat out a palm full of blood. Then, Meng Shizhuang raised his head and glanced at him indifferently.

Just this one glance brought Lao Hu back to that rainy day more than ten years ago.

He searched the mountain for his two disciples but could find no trace of them, so he begged Lao Ju to come down and look for them. After a night of thunder and lightning, Lao Ju returned with his men. Luo Shun, carrying Ke Yuanshan on his back, followed Lao Ju silently.

He saw the enchanting bloodstains on Ke Yuanshan's face and his body which had long lost its temperature.

Luo Shun put Ke Yuanshan down, just like Meng Shizhuang now.

Also in this half-kneeling position, looking up at him in the same way.

And he said, "I want them to pay with their lives."

"I want them to suffer a fate worse than death."

The second evil spirit was finally carved today.

Lao Hu stood there in a daze.

He knew he had made the wrong choice again.