Chapter 51: Undercurrent
The night is still long, and the five-o'clock gong breaks the chaos.
Yun Yuan tossed and turned in the brocade quilt, feeling a slight pain in her temples.
The indigo skylight that shines through the diamond-shaped window makes people extremely tired and unable to sleep. Layers of disgust well up in their hearts, but they don't know where this unreasonable shame comes from.
She turned over and thought carefully. She didn't do anything ridiculous or say anything stupid last night. She just relaxed a little and indulged herself a little, and her occasional actions and words were slightly inappropriate.
She buried her face in the pillow, and some trivial and hazy fragments appeared and disappeared like a dream.
She remembered drinking and laughing heartily, and she also remembered hooking her arm around Feng Yanyuan's neck, staring at him intently. His eyebrows and eyes reflected the candlelight, so handsome that she couldn't take her eyes off him... She remembered his silent laughter, the smile lines at the corners of his eyes like spring water, which inexplicably made her heart warm...
Suddenly she saw that jade-like face close to her again, her warm breath wandering over her numb snow-white cheeks, and her starry eyes reflected her own blushing and foolish smile.
He whispered softly, his deep voice carrying a heart-shaking gasp: "If you don't let go, I can't bear it anymore..."
She suddenly woke up for a moment and suddenly found herself lying on the embroidered couch with her hands still hooked around his neck. She loosened her hands like a startled bird...
At this moment, she banged her head hard against the pillow twice, as if this could make her yesterday's behavior less ridiculous.
She remembered him leaning over to tuck the corner of the quilt, remembered his hazy figure sitting by the bed, and in a trance she saw him approaching and placing a wet kiss on her forehead - in the mist of agarwood, it was like a drop of dew condensed between her eyebrows.
Why there?
Unfortunately, she was so drunk that her senses were numb and she couldn't remember what that kiss felt like, but it seemed different from what Tao Niang said.
She stroked her eyebrows lightly, and the corners of her mouth buried in the pillow couldn't help but rise up, but in the next moment she bumped into the quilt in embarrassment and anger.
Yun Yuan, unable to sleep but not yet awake, hurried downstairs with a crimson brow. She wanted a bowl of stomach-warming soup, but she saw the man already standing in front of the food table, his fingertips lightly tapping the bamboo food sign hanging on the wall.
"Awake so early?"
Feng Yanyuan chuckled softly, his eyes flickering and stirring a thousand waves in her heart. Yun Shang danced like a frightened white crane, and in the blink of an eye, she was already fleeing in panic.
His surprised call was left behind by her, and she slammed the door shut.
He stared at the closed door in a daze for a moment, then suddenly shook his head and chuckled. He knocked on the bronze bell on the dining table, and with the clear sound, a young man in shorts came quickly.
"I want a bowl of water shield soup and two golden cakes. I also want a bowl of dogwood jam in a Yue bowl. Send them all to that room."
The waiter carried a gray pottery box and turned the wooden stairs. When the hemp cloth curtain was lifted, the copper bell under the eaves rang.
Feng Yanyuan leaned against the lacquered railing, looking at the half-open door of the guest room on the second floor, and the hot steam from the steamed buns mixed with the scent of frankincense in the tent wafted out.
He let the warmth in his heart fade away quietly, and immersed himself in the clear morning light.
This intoxicating warmth had not yet melted in my chest when I suddenly heard hurried footsteps. The crisp sound of boots crushing dry branches mixed with heavy breathing came from far away.
"Young Master!"
Feng Jiu knocked over the reed mat screen and rushed into the hall with a murderous aura. His brown robe was soaked with blood, and the blood scabs on the front of his clothes peeled off with his movements. The stench of sweat and blood mixed with the smell of rust hit him. The diners were like quails with their throats strangled, and even the oil droplets on the tips of their chopsticks froze.
Feng Yanyuan frowned and asked, "Something happened at Bagong Mountain?"
Something big happened last night at Bagong Mountain.
In fact, murderous intent had already been brewing during the daytime competitions. The major sects exchanged greetings and greetings, but secretly, tensions were high.
First, there was the feud between the Buyi Gang and the Wuji Sect. A few days ago, thirty-seven members of the Buyi Gang's Yuzhou branch were killed by the "Feather Mang" weapon. This hidden weapon was originally forged by the Wuji Sect, but Gongsun Bai publicly displayed three of the same design: "The Wuji Sect isn't the only one who can forge such weapons in the Jianghu."
Xu Ji, leader of the Bu Yi Gang, sneered at the words. The soul rope wrapped around his waist moved without a breeze, and the scimitar reflected a piercing cold light under the scorching sun. When the two men's eyes met, their knuckles were already crackling.
Later, Huashan Sect leader Ye Zhenyu spoke with a sharp tone. He glanced at the Hengshan Sect leader and said with a smile, "Leader Wei had a night banquet in Lin'an with people from Sili Prefecture last month. It is really admirable that you are so well-connected in both the martial arts world and the court." Before he finished speaking, several eyes flashed at the table - who didn't know that Sili Prefecture had just busted Huashan Sect's secret agent in Qiantang three days ago?
Hengshan's head guard, Qianqiu, was fixated on the light veil of the Qingmu Valley Master—the silk veil rose and fell with her breathing, a faint hint of cinnabar visible on her forehead. Hearing this, he took a sip from his wine bottle and said casually, "If Master Ye is interested, we might as well go hunting with him next time we go hunting in Fengshan."
However, these tense moments were ultimately just a series of interludes during the competition. Once the new generation of disciples took to the stage, amidst the flashes of swords and sabers, the grudges of the older generation were temporarily put aside. After all, on Bagong Mountain, the competition was the most important thing, not to mention the need to give Senior Yue some respect.
The competition among newcomers gradually reached its climax, and the most amazing one was Mei Hanchuan, the direct disciple of Mei Jiumang from Meili Village.
This man, dressed in a black plum-patterned suit, struck with lightning speed, having defeated five opponents in a half-incense stick. According to the rules, he could challenge renowned masters. His gaze was cold as he scanned the room, finally resting on Xi Wu Gu, the leader of the Beggar Gang's West Division. His voice was as cold as frost: "Leader Xi, please teach me."
Xi Wu Gu grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "Little kid, don't make the mistake." He was confident that he had been famous for many years, and after five small fights, he had already seen through this boy's tricks and was determined to win this battle.
However, from the moment they engaged, Xi Wu Gu sensed something was amiss—Mei Hanchuan's moves were drastically different! In the previous five encounters, his sword movements had been light and agile, but now, each move was ruthless, targeting Xi Wu Gu's old injuries. Before ten moves had passed, Mei Hanchuan suddenly unleashed his "Cold Plum Blossom Point" move, his fingertips like blades, aiming straight for Xi Wu Gu's throat!
Xi Wu Gu leaned back hastily, only to see a flash of cold light from Mei Hanchuan's sleeves—three "Falling Plum Soul-Chasing Nails" shot straight into his eyes!
At the critical moment, three bluestones flew through the air. "Ding, ding, ding," three sharp sounds were heard as the broken stones and the silver needles collided in mid-air, sending out several sparks.
Seeing the three soul-chasing nails being shot down, Mei Hanchuan became furious. He suddenly waved his sleeves and shouted sternly: "Hua Guimu! In the arena competition, life and death are decided by fate. Are you, the Beggar Gang, trying to break the rules of the martial arts world?!" The sound shocked the disciples of Meili Village on the sidelines and they all drew their weapons, and the cold light merged into one.
Hua Guimu jumped onto the stage, bent down, picked up the fallen silver needle, and examined it. Although he still had a playful smile on his face, a cold light flashed in his eyes. "Master Mei, your disciple is good, but this needle is not good. Let's have a duel, why is it coated with something?"
He held the poison needle between his two fingers and raised it above his head. In the sunlight, the needle tip was shining with a strange green color, like the glowing ghost fire on a graveyard at night.
"We lost this thing from the Beggar Gang, but I never expected to see it in the arena today."
There was an uproar on the sidelines. Xi Wu Gu was shocked. He had been fuming and meddling in other people's affairs, trying to be a hero, but he never imagined that those three needles were meant to take his life!
Two months ago, the Beggar Gang's headquarters was robbed of a secret poison called 'Ghost Knocking'. This poison attacks at midnight and has no antidote. If it weren't for Hua Guimu's intervention, he would have barely avoided vital injuries, but would have certainly sustained them. In this case, he would have been dead by midnight, and he would have died from his own poison. The Beggar Gang would have had no place to seek revenge!
Mei Nanzhuang is going to use the beggar gang's poison to kill the beggar gang's members! What a dare to do it but not to take responsibility!
Mei Jiumang was stunned for a moment, then suddenly smiled sinisterly, "I didn't expect that Hua Gang Leader could actually use such a trick." A snake-shaped soft sword slid out of his sleeve, "Then why don't you try it, Hua Gang Leader? Is this also the treasure your gang lost?"
The two of them spoke different words, leaving everyone confused, but they seemed to know everything and their anger grew.
"Very good!"
Hua Guimu's tattered sleeves suddenly bulged, and his patchwork bag unfurled in the wind, fluttering like a spirit-calling banner. "Brother Mei, watch out—" he hummed a grotesque tune. Seven pinpricks of phosphorescent light suddenly emanated from the bag, forming a Big Dipper formation around Mei Jiumang. As everyone watched in fascination, three Netherworld Bone Needles, shielded by the phosphorescent light, silently shot towards Mei Jiumang's back, aiming for his wound!
Mei Jiumang did not move, but the snake-shaped soft sword in his hand suddenly trembled, and the sword body twisted and vibrated like a living thing, making a "hissing" sound as it broke through the air.
“Ding! Ding! Ding!”
The sword's sharp edge sent three Netherworld Bone Needles carelessly careening off, their tips colliding with the blade, sending out dazzling sparks. The seven points of phosphorescent light were disrupted by the sword's wind, lashing back at Flower Ghost Eye.
A chilling wind suddenly blew up from the stage, and phosphorescent flames and sword flashes tangled in a tangle. Each blow from the two men was deadly, and the battle was raging in darkness. Disciples from both factions glared at each other, their swords drawn, and a melee seemed imminent. Meanwhile, the other sects simply watched with disdain, drinking wine and sipping tea, as if waiting for an opportunity to reap the spoils.
In the end, Abbot Wuxu flew in and used his powerful internal strength to forcibly separate the two.
Everyone thought it was just a disturbance during the day, but they didn't know that the climax would come in the middle of the night.
Just after midnight, the camps of various factions in Bagong Mountain suddenly exploded like a hornet's nest, and the flashes of swords and sabers danced like silver snakes, tearing the dark night into pieces.
By the time Feng Jiu drew his sword, the fighting had already spread across the mountains like a prairie fire. This bloody battle had come with strange consequences—no one could see who struck the first blow, let alone distinguish friend from foe. Past grudges now flared like a string of thunderbolts, a spark sending them shattering and exploding in a fiery crimson sky.
Feng Jiu had intended to lead the Yuanfeng Guards to seize the imposter Yue Nancang during the chaos, but instead discovered the dying Yuanyi Taoist in Yue Nancang's tent. He was about to search for him again when he discovered the army had already begun surrounding the mountain. Unable to delay, he quickly ordered the Yuanfeng Guards to take a shortcut out of Bagong Mountain. Upon returning to the city, he had them escort Yuanyi Taoist to Xuanhe Hall while he rushed to deliver the news.
As Feng Jiu was describing this, he was naturally led into the room. The bloody smell quickly filled the entire room.
Yun Yuan was waiting at the stairs, took the basin of water from the serving boy, brought it back to the room, closed the door, wet the handkerchief, wrung it dry, and then handed it to Feng Jiu.
Feng Jiu took it and wiped his face roughly, and the handkerchief instantly turned rouge-colored.
By the time he finished the last word, Feng Jiu had already gulped down eight large bowls of water. Droplets of water mixed with lingering blood trickled down his neck, leaving a dark crimson stain on his coarse collar.
Feng Yanyuan stood by the window. Yun Yuan raised her eyes and met his. Three wrinkles formed between their brows, reflecting the same thought: although they had expected this birthday banquet to be an elaborate chess game, they had not expected that the entire martial arts world had already become the chessboard of the master. It turned out that undercurrents had already been surging, and this Hongmen Banquet was truly a stage for watching the tigers fight from the mountain.
The morning light filtered through the window lattice, and a flock of gray pigeons flapped their wings over the eaves, their feathers cutting through the morning mist.
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