Chapter 30: The Past is Obscure
When the head of the family, Feng Xiaotian, hurried to Yuanfeng Courtyard, several doctors had already reached a unanimous conclusion: the third young master was beyond saving.
The knife wound itself wasn't fatal. Though aimed squarely at the heart, the Third Young Master's internal energy wasn't enough to reach the heart meridians. The real killer was the poison imbued in the knife. By the time the Third Young Master managed to return to Yuanfeng Courtyard, the poison had already spread throughout his body. By the time the doctors arrived, it was too late to save him.
Feng Xiaotian stood frozen in place. At a time of turmoil in the court, the Feng family's halberd bearer had met such a fateful fate. There must have been a profound conspiracy behind this. He couldn't fathom who, with his third son's current martial arts prowess, could have gotten close enough to injure him. As his thoughts raced, the wailing in the room and the pronouncement of "nothing can be done" seemed to be completely shut out, until the young master hurriedly arrived with the news: "The Wind God Formation has dissipated."
Those five words resonated like thunder, suddenly awakening a father's heart. Only then did Feng Xiaotian realize the reason for the sobbing in the room: his youngest son... "was beyond redemption." His face suddenly contorted, his eyes flushed red, his Adam's apple throbbed violently, his hands clenched into fists beneath his wide sleeves. Ultimately, he didn't step forward. After a brief pause, he turned and strode away. Only the gust of wind from his robe fluttered, sweeping the long-cold cup of tea off the table.
A group of guards hurriedly followed, and even Feng Jiu only stopped outside the door to look back, wiped away the tears that could not be stopped, and quickly caught up with the master's receding back.
The protective formation of the Wind God Halberd ensures the safety of the entire clan; this is an ironclad rule of the Feng family. Whenever a halberd bearer passes away, the first order of business is never mourning, but rather the immediate mobilization of all guards, securing a tight perimeter around every key point of the Feng family. Once this defense is secure, all members of the clan must gather at the Wind God Pavilion to select a new halberd bearer and continue the formation. This was the case when Feng Xiaotian's father passed away, so how could his son be exempt now that it was his turn?
Ruyue was lying in front of Feng Yanyuan's bed, having already fainted from crying.
Yuanfeng Courtyard suddenly fell into silence, with only the copper bells on the eaves jingling in the wind.
The entire Feng family was now brightly lit and in perfect order. The guards performed their duties without needing orders, and the servants tacitly stayed indoors—this set of rules for dealing with emergencies was clearly ingrained in every Feng family member.
Yun Yuan watched the guards' torches fly away like dragons, finally disappearing into the depths of the night.
The Feng family was truly strange at the moment. Not just the people, but also the air—it was suddenly extremely cold and inexplicably stagnant. It wasn't the peaceful tranquility of complete silence, but rather the emptiness of a sudden hushed clamor.
She suddenly remembered Tao Yao's words—the Wind God Halberd, the Wind God Formation, and the phrase "Feng Yanyuan, the Third Young Master of the Feng Sect, is the one holding the halberd!" In an instant, a thought flashed through her mind—the deception of Wangyue Valley must have been broken by now!
Yun Yuan suddenly turned around and hurried back to her room. She tapped lightly with her fingertips on the sandalwood jewelry box that Feng Yanyuan had checked, and the secret box opened with a click.
Plum blossoms drizzled into the soup. Two jade beads rolled into two white porcelain teacups, sizzling and foaming with water.
She took out the silver needles that were originally used to thread the pearl hairpins, dipped them into a cup of tea, then took out the black gold claws and poured another cup of tea into the poison groove at the tip of the gilded claws.
The feathered sleeves emitted a subtle hissing sound as they were soaked in the venom. Yun Yuan shook her wrist slightly, and the venom seeped evenly into every strand of silk. When she left the room again, the feathered sleeves were already resting quietly in her arms, like a poisonous butterfly with its wings folded.
Her figure blended into the night, and as she passed through the corridor, she didn't even disturb the newly fallen petals in front of the steps.
Eight years ago, on a night so dead and eerily silent, she huddled in the darkness of Moyun Pavilion, watching helplessly as the all-consuming nightmare unfolded.
The dome of Moyun Pavilion hung high like the night sky, and the stacked bookshelves were her perfect hiding place. Between those yellowed pages lay a world that fascinated her even more than the embroidery room her mother had arranged for her.
My mother's experience with her aunt was a formidable threat—the woman who spent her days grinding medicine in the Mo family's pharmacy, grinding until she was over 50, finally finding a husband. Her desk was piled with "Legends of Women" and "Biographies of Women," and the nanny's ruler kept dropping on her without her noticing.
Only in Moyun Pavilion could she breathe. She loved to curl up in the corner beneath the west window, letting the slanting sunlight trace the diamond-shaped lattice patterns on her skirt. When she opened the Moxin Jue, a herb garden would emerge in her mind. Angelica dahurica blossoms stretched in the moonlight, the fragrance of angelica lingered on her fingertips. She repeatedly combined these imaginary herbs until she arrived at a refined formula. Apricot blossom paper filled with prescriptions would always appear on the lacquered table in her father's pharmacy, and the next morning, a porcelain bowl containing the prescription would be found on the table. This was an unspoken secret between father and daughter.
That night, the attic was utterly dark. She was contemplating the formula for a tranquilizing powder. Suddenly, the sound of swords pierced the silence. She leaped to the railing just as Feng Xiaoming's blade pierced her father's chest—the blood-stained longsword shone a chilling green in the moonlight. Footsteps approached down the stairs, and a familiar pair of hands suddenly enveloped her from behind. Her mother's familiar jasmine scent was mingled with the unfamiliar scent of blood. Her mother embraced her, escaping from the attic's secret passage and running towards the main door.
She leaned on her mother's shoulder, watching the flames of Moyun Pavilion tear through the night. The blazing flames were like a whip sent down by the gods, lashing the Mo family's century-old foundation into a sea of fire.
Not long after, her mother, who had taken her care of her, also lost her life. The poison her mother was poisoned with was none other than the "Impermanence" that Feng Xiaoming was most proud of, the one he had developed entirely by himself and that had made her aunt obsessed with his talent.
Yun Yuan stood on the hilltop where she had dropped her handkerchief. Several ghost grasses gleamed faintly in the moonlight, their green flames flickering faintly. She had actually planted these ghost grasses herself—her sachet contained not only Hanmei Powder, a detoxifying herb, but also the seeds of many Mohist herbal remedies.
She had planted the ghost grass so that she would have a reasonable explanation if the Third Young Master discovered her visiting the forbidden area at night. Of course, it was also to help her locate her position one day.
Sure enough, in front of the swaying ghost grasses, there was now only an ordinary and quiet valley, which was clearly visible under the moonlight.
But she didn't expect that there was no one guarding the place at this moment.
She didn't have time to think too much. She put the blinding incense in her hand back into her sleeve pocket, took a deep breath, suppressed the surging hatred, and started running towards the valley - her steps staggered, deliberately appearing panicked.
When Feng Xiaoming heard the noise and came over, he saw a frightened and embarrassed maid. He remembered this girl. Now that the Third Young Master was dead, he just thought that the Young Master took the opportunity to throw her into the valley.
Oh, there is nothing in the world more exciting than finding lost prey again.
Just like last time, three silver needles shot out from the air, and just like last time, the girl staggered and fell to the ground, falling among the corpses.
Feng Xiaoming walked closer, bent down, and reached out to feel the girl's pulse - feeling the chaotic pulsation of the poison in the drugged person's body, which was the most beautiful melody to him.
At that moment, something unexpected happened! A pair of cold hands suddenly gripped Feng Xiaoming's wrist, which was about to be taken for a pulse scan. Before he could react, he felt a sharp stinging pain on his wrist. Something sharp had instantly sliced through his wrist! Shocked and furious, he frantically struggled to break free, but two white sleeves entwined themselves around him like serpents, tightly binding his arms.
Yun Yuan used the force to stand up suddenly! With a sharp pull of his sleeves, he pulled the skinny "old man" who was off balance due to the severe pain in his wrist and the suddenness of his defenses to his front!
Feng Xiaoming was bound, the shock and anger in his eyes instantly turning into a sinister inquiry. He stopped struggling and instead stared into the girl's suddenly sinister eyes. His voice was hoarse, "You are not an ordinary maid. Who are you?"
"Uncle, don't you recognize Yuan'er?" Yun Yuan's voice was icy cold.
She still remembered the first time she had seen him, when he had come to visit her parents as her aunt's new son-in-law. Back then, he had been a handsome, eight-foot-tall man, dignified and humorous. Now, only ten years had passed, and when she saw him again, he seemed old and decrepit, exuding the scent of decay and toxicity.
"Uncle?" Feng Xiaoming's brow furrowed, his gaze lingering over her face, as if to penetrate the years. A moment later, a nearly forgotten figure surfaced in his mind. He hesitated, "Are you... the daughter of Mo Chen, the eldest son of the Mo family?" He knew the Mo family bloodline like the back of his hand. A woman of her age could only be Mo Chen's eldest daughter, who was rarely seen and whose memory was vague.
"Uncle has a good memory. To be honest," Yun Yuan said with a cold smile, "if I hadn't tasted your new poison a few days ago, I wouldn't have recognized that my 'good uncle' who stole the Mo family's 'Mo Xin Jue' and led the Queen's henchmen to slaughter my entire family was hiding here, transformed into the 'Poison Master'!"
Feng Xiaoming was stunned. This girl could even taste the ingredients of the poison recipe?! How could she know the inside story of the bloody incident?
"So you're the maid in the Third Young Master's courtyard! You sneaked into the Feng family..." His eyes turned strangely, and he squeezed out a trace of "kindness". "Good girl, Feng Mo is your in-law, why do you have to be a slave? Tell your uncle, and he will make the decision for you!"
Yun Yuan sneered: "Uncle, are you going to 'take charge' and reward Yuan'er with a good reward, like you treated my parents and relatives back then? Or are you treating them like these poor people who are testing drugs?" She glanced at the corpses around her.
"What are you talking about? You must have believed some instigation!" A mournful sigh rolled out of Feng Xiaoming's throat. "On the night of the Mo family's murder... the Demon Queen's secret agents had already infiltrated! You were young then... how could you have known the danger? If you have any doubts," his eyes were full of temptation and temptation, "why not go and test the Feng family? Perhaps... you can hear some 'truth'?"
"Uncle, you're so good at conflating right and wrong..." Yun Yuan snorted coldly, each word sharp as a knife. "The Mo Clan is only dedicated to helping the world and has never been affiliated with the Yang Clan. What right does the Queen have to exterminate them? Uncle, as the Queen's secret agent, you were ordered to deal with the Feng Clan. Why did you switch the tables and turn the butcher knife against our Mo Clan? Are you repaying kindness with enmity?!"
Haha, you know quite a lot.
Feng Xiaoming sneered in his heart.
Why the substitution?
Because his good father had his eyes on him—even though he had already made that woman bear all the blame. But his good father still refused to let up even a little! However, there was a benefit. His good father, who had exhausted his life by constantly watching the game, had helped him leave the valley earlier. Now that he was out of Wangyue Valley, he no longer hated the Feng family so much. Besides, his foolish brother still cared about brotherly love.
As for why it is Mohism, of course...
"It's all because of the Mo Xin Jue... It's just too tempting!" His twisted face was filled with exaggerated sorrow, "It's a pity your aunt refused to teach me! She didn't believe me, I just wanted to... prove it to her!" He looked sincere, tears streaming down his face, "Uncle really just wanted to get the Mo Xin Jue, just wanted to make those people make some noise, but who knew that the demon queen wanted to wipe out the whole family without knowing right from wrong?! Uncle was hit on the head with a club and fell into the abyss, he didn't even know it! How could uncle... Your aunt is the only one in the world..." He was choked with sobs and couldn't speak, "Only love..."
The young girl interrupted coldly: "With a character like my uncle, it's no wonder the Queen would abandon him after his death."
She watched as the exaggerated expression on Feng Xiaoming's face gradually froze.
"I heard that the giant cauldron in the imperial city burned for a whole day and night. A 'hero' like my uncle should have been made into a broth for offering sacrifices to heaven and earth. How could it be... Oh! Yuan'er remembers now. You escaped this disaster by throwing yourself into the royal family's golden soup. How dare a humble Mo family member take credit for it?" Yun Yuan chuckled. "But this 'endurance of humiliation' is indeed admirable!"
As the words fell, the entire valley fell into an eerie silence, and even the stench that had lingered for years seemed to solidify.
Suddenly, a long and shrill cry of a night owl was heard in the distance.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
