Chapter 57: Day and Night
In front of Wanlifang, a strong wind was blowing.
"Yue Nancang" turned around slowly, his gray robe fluttering.
In the midday sun, the young man's white clothes were blazing and dazzling.
The old man squinted his eyes and examined him carefully. "I've always heard that the Feng family is well versed in the art of war, and their hearts are full of twists and turns. Their reputation is indeed well-deserved. A young boy who has just started out can actually possess such scheming and tactics."
Feng Yanyuan said, "Since you possess such power, you are capable of establishing your own sect and becoming a leader in your area. Why would you resort to impersonating someone else and stealing their name?"
The old man's grey robe fluttered as he laughed three times. "What a noble young man, ignorant of the sufferings of the world! You actually want to discuss the principles of conduct with someone like me, who has been wallowing in the mire?" He suddenly stopped laughing. "As a man of the underworld, you can't afford to waste time on such nonsense!"
Before he finished speaking, his palms had turned red like branding, and a strong wind carrying a heat wave pressed towards Feng Yanyuan like a tidal wave.
The young man's white clothes fluttered, his right palm condensed into frost, and he turned sideways to meet the attack - the moment the two air waves collided, a thunderbolt exploded under the clear sky, tearing the sky from bottom to top!
The old man was about to mobilize all his life's strength to make a final effort, but a gust of tricky wind entangled his wrist, and he fell backwards uncontrollably, stumbling to the ground in the blink of an eye!
Feng Yanyuan slowly stopped, his snow-white sleeves trembling slightly.
Calm and composed... He didn't even use a third of his strength!
The old man was stunned, and suddenly he felt the blood in his chest surging, and a burning sensation suddenly rushed to his throat. As blood spurted out, his hands could not stop shaking violently.
"You! What did you do?"
The old man looked up in horror. Feng Yanyuan's face, shrouded in the vast sunlight, was hidden in the shadows. Only a cold voice sounded from above, like a verdict: "Although this appearance may not change, from now on, you must not use even a single move of the Thunder Palm."
As Feng Yanyuan spoke, he leaned over and grabbed the other person's jaw, using his fingertips to probe the teeth.
The old man allowed himself to be manipulated, only squeezing out a sneer from his throat: "I am just a lonely ghost, without any ties, and I don't need the poison between my teeth."
Feng Yanyuan glanced at the old man's palm which was secretly gathering strength, and slowly stood up.
"I only destroyed your internal energy, not your bones. You can still practice martial arts, but you can't use Senior Yue's name anymore."
The old man was stunned.
Feng Yanyuan stared at him: "Who were you originally?"
The old man sneered, "It's just another evil ghost that crawled out of the Ten Thousand Demons Cave. Has Mr. Feng San never seen it?"
Evil ghosts are now rampant in broad daylight.
Feng Yanyuan sighed softly and looked up at Wanlifang. It was still very quiet there, except for a few cages of slaves huddled together in the yard, shivering, without a single ripple.
The old man suddenly laughed hoarsely, blood foam splattering on his withered beard. "In today's world, day is like eternal night, and there is no room for mercy. Third Master Feng, please give me a quick death!"
"I came here to look for someone." Feng Yanyuan said calmly, "It has nothing to do with you."
He was about to step past the old man when his feet suddenly sank - the old man's skinny hand was tightly clamping his ankle!
"You can't go in."
Feng Yanyuan was startled—the voice was flat and calm, like a rotten mechanism, executing an order seared into his bones. Lowering his gaze, he met a pair of eyes so empty they made his heart tremble.
Suddenly, a shrill sound of something breaking through the air shattered the silence! Countless flying knives shot out from the darkness in all directions, heading straight for the two of them!
Feng Yanyuan's internal energy exploded, shaking off the grip and leaping into the air, his sleeves tracing a white arc in the air. When he spun back to the ground, he looked up to see the old man lying in a pool of blood—his body pierced by sharp blades, one withered hand still dug into the ground, clutching half of a black iron spring he had just pulled from the earth.
Feng Yanyuan frowned, a sharp pain shooting through his back shoulder—he'd been stabbed after all. He pulled out his hidden weapon, and just as the blood-stained blade had dropped to the ground, his knees suddenly buckled, slamming heavily onto the muddy ground.
The day was vast, the heat was scorching, and I felt dizzy.
Why does this numbness feel so familiar...
"Young Master!"
The crisp cry pierced the chaos and awakened a trace of clarity.
Yun Yuan rushed over quickly, bent down to pick up the short blade and sniffed it, her face turned pale in an instant: "It's this poison again..." Her voice trembled, but her fingertips tore open the clothes on his shoulders without hesitation. Seeing that black blood was oozing out of the wound, she immediately bent down, covered the wound with her lips, and sucked hard.
Feng Yanyuan froze. He turned his head to watch the girl repeat the motions of sucking and spitting blood, her warm lips brushing against his skin again and again. He couldn't tell if the dizziness he felt was due to the poison or something else.
She tore open the sachet at her waist and quickly stuffed a bunch of plum blossom fragrance powder into his mouth, "Swallow it quickly!" Then she pinched some of the powder and applied it to the wound that was gradually turning red, gently spreading it with her fingertips.
A sudden chill rushed to his Baihui acupoint, like a thunderclap splitting the chaos, and his mind suddenly became clear. He suddenly realized that the fingertips dipped in medicine were swirling and pressing on his shoulder. The medicine seeping into the wound was like an icy needle piercing his bones, causing his limbs to tremble.
He turned around abruptly and looked at the sachet in the girl's hand—it was indeed her who had saved him that time...
The sudden surge of heat in his heart almost swallowed him up.
His eyes fell on her blood-stained lips.
He snatched the sachet and pinched a handful of the powdered medicine into her mouth. When his fingertips touched her soft lips, they both shuddered.
Yun Yuan lowered her head in panic and dodged.
He leaned over to trace her hidden face, gently lifted her chin with his fingertips, and carefully wiped the blood from the corner of her lips with the corner of his sleeve.
The warm fingertips wrapped in cloth caressed her lips, causing her heart to tremble slightly.
After wiping off the blood, he still refused to let go. Instead, he moved closer, staring at the scarlet lips with burning eyes.
As their breaths tangled, Yun Yuan suddenly stood up and took two steps back.
"Everyone in Wanlifang has already left."
Yun Yuan suppressed the throbbing in her heart and replied in a low voice - when Feng Yanyuan was dealing with the old man in the front, she had already quietly sneaked into the town to investigate, but unfortunately she was still one step too late.
"Hmm?" Feng Yanyuan looked up at her, his eyes full of tenderness. He was stunned for a moment before he suddenly came to his senses. He stood up abruptly with a frown on his face.
“So fast?!”
Yun Yuan nodded silently. His gaze fell on the body lying in a pool of blood. What he had risked his life to protect was nothing more than a long-laid trap.
Feng Yanyuan searched Wanlifang carefully for nearly an hour.
His fingertips traced every hidden compartment, examining every remaining human skin mask and every robe stained with medicine. The imprisoned slaves huddled in their cages, their eyes hollow—they were all mute slaves, kept alive only to produce fresh, living skins.
He broke the iron lock and distributed all the money in his purse to everyone. The mute slaves' hands trembled as they clutched the coins, and finally they bowed silently, then supported each other and disappeared into the twilight.
The corpse with Yue Nancang's face was buried by the two men nearby under an old locust tree - no matter what, they couldn't let such a respected face be exposed in the wilderness.
The setting sun is blood-red.
The two of them returned empty-handed, leaving behind long shadows.
When he rode back to Xuanhe Hall, he saw Feng Jiu stamping his feet anxiously from afar. After Yuanfengwei had built up momentum in the slave market, he had no idea where the young master had gone, so he just followed the instructions and returned to guard Xuanhe Hall.
Feng Jiu caught sight of the Young Master and immediately rushed forward, his voice changing tone: "Young Master! You are finally back! Yuan Yi, Taoist Master Yuan Yi—" He was so anxious that he could hardly speak coherently, "He was snatched away by the Second Young Master and Feng Die!"
When Feng Yanyuan heard the words "Second Young Master", his whole body trembled.
"who?!"
"Second... Second Young Master! Young Master Xuan!"
Feng Yanyuan's heart was beating like thunder.
In the sunset, he seemed to see again the scar on his sleeve as his "Second Brother" approached with a knife - the same scar the real Feng Yanxuan had inflicted when he saved him as a child, in the exact same position. But the fierceness in that man's eyes still sent a chill down his spine when he thought of it.
His throat tightened. Could this "Second Brother" who had taken Yuan Yi away be the Shura who had taken his life that day, or... the closest relative he trusted most in his memory?
Yun Yuan asked, "Isn't Taoist Master Yuanyi placed in the inner courtyard secret room?"
Feng Jiu stomped his feet in anger when he heard this.
"That's right! The spy was holding the family head's iron order and clamoring for the person. I insisted I had no knowledge of the matter! But when I turned around, I saw the Second Young Master personally carrying Taoist Yuanyi over the high wall in the backyard! The spy has us under control again, and we can only watch as the Second Young Master takes the person away!"
"Which direction did he go?" Feng Yanyuan asked hurriedly.
Feng Jiu pointed to the end of the long street and said, "Towards the East City Gate, the carriage with green curtains has been going for about a quarter of an hour!"
Before Feng Jiu finished speaking, the horse under Feng Yanyuan's crotch neighed loudly, raised its front hooves high, trampled the setting sun to pieces, and sped away in a cloud of dust.
No matter whether it is a ghost or a close relative, we must break through this mystery today!
Feng Yanyuan galloped along, the grass and trees on either side of the official road turning into blurry green shadows in the gust of wind. In the distance, the outline of the Shili Pavilion gradually emerged, and a carriage with a green curtain sped towards the wilderness. Atop the shaft, the crimson gown fluttered in the wind—so familiar, yet so glaring.
Feng Yanyuan's chest seemed to be tightly grasped by an invisible hand. He kicked the saddle hard, leaped into the air, and the palm wind in his sleeve was as sharp as a knife, slashing straight at the carriage.
"boom!"
Wood chips flew everywhere, and the carriage was empty. Only a lingering scent of medicine mixed with a hint of blood remained.
"Third brother, how are you?"
A clear voice came from above.
Feng Yanyuan suddenly looked up and saw Feng Yanxuan sitting on an old willow branch three meters away, leaning on one knee leisurely.
The setting sun filtered through the gaps in the willow leaves, casting tiny specks of light on the corners of Feng Yanxuan's smiling lips. His cynical demeanor, his relaxed posture, even his graceful movements—all were identical to the second brother he remembered.
Feng Yanyuan stared at him intently, his clenched fists trembling slightly: "Who... are you?"
"My father sent me here."
Feng Yanxuan dodged the questioning, his sleeves fluttering as he retreated to the treetops. With a condescending air, he suddenly lowered his voice, imitating the patriarch's commanding, slow tone: "This is a chess game played by the princes. Why does the Feng family have to get bogged down in this mess?" But before he finished, he was the first to lose his composure, his laughter ringing out, startling a few birds.
"That's not the right answer!" Feng Yanyuan shouted angrily, and a palm wind suddenly rose.
"boom--!"
A willow tree, as thick as a bowl, snapped, sending wood chips flying. Feng Yanxuan leaped into the air with a whoosh, landing lightly two feet away. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. "Good on you, Third Brother! You've lost almost half your internal energy, yet you still have such power?"
Feng Yanyuan was shocked. Besides his father, he had only told one person about this matter...
Feng Yanxuan's sleeves rustled in the evening breeze, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "If I answer, will you believe it?" He suddenly took a half step forward, the setting sun stretching his figure diagonally. "That idiot has already been taken away by big brother's men - I can't escape anyway." A soft laugh escaped his throat. "How about this..." He suddenly leaned forward, exposing his neck to the other party's palm. "Knock me out first, and then drag me directly to Xuanhe Hall for identification." The last syllable rose, "Wouldn't that be more satisfying than empty words?"
Feng Yanyuan slashed forward with his palm without any hesitation.
This palm strike was fast and accurate. Feng Yanxuan didn't even have time to groan before his body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. With a loud "bang", he fell heavily to the ground, raising dust into the air.
A few dead leaves were lifted up by the air waves, spun in the air and then slowly fell down.
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