Chapter 93: The Great Dao
The Feng family's carrier pigeons were small and lean, never attracting attention. Experienced hunters wouldn't target them. Even so, they still had to release dozens of them to deliver a letter over a thousand miles, fearing that some hungry ghost wouldn't be able to tell the difference between fat and thin.
These skinny pigeons' legs, thinner than dead branches, now held the shattered dreams of over seven hundred heroes, the fears of the world's wise, and the prelude to decades of chaos. This immense weight floated lightly across the shattered city of Luoyang, over towering mountains and vast lakes, and across the vast land of Kyushu, finally landing in the hands of the Feng family's head.
At that time, Feng Yanyuan was wandering around in Wangyue Valley - he was trapped in the Wind God Formation.
Because he had disobeyed the head of the family. Even though his father had tricked him back home by claiming to be seriously ill, according to the rules of the Feng family, he still shouldn't have been furious with his father.
So he was trapped in Wangyue Valley - this strange "prison" place that he had carefully designed to make it impossible for Feng Xiaoming to escape so that he could assassinate him.
These days, he tried many times to resonate with the Wind God Halberd, but there was no response.
He could only blame himself for being too ignorant and too proud. When he first regained consciousness, he could have entered the Wind God Pavilion and once again forged a bond with the Divine Halberd. His young cousin, still a child, would have been no match for him for the position of Halberd Wielder.
But he was unwilling to bear this overwhelming "blessing" any longer. This power bestowed by his talent had brought him too much suffocation in the past ten years.
He was also unwilling to be trapped in this small place any longer - although the magic circle would not dissipate as long as the person holding the spear was alive, he could not leave the Feng family residence easily, as this was the guardian's destiny.
Perhaps he could be more flexible. After all, someone already wielded the halberd. He could form a bond with the divine halberd and then roam the martial world under the name of Xun Erge. But at that time, he was tired of such scheming and maneuvering.
His peerless martial arts skills once made him believe that he could stand upright in the world, without scheming, and treat the world with a sincere heart.
But at this moment, he was truly imprisoned - just like the evil ghost he had imprisoned for eight years.
Just when he was filled with grief and anger, the head of the family personally brought news from King Huainan.
The trembling white silk slowly unfolded, and on it were densely packed tiny characters:
The guards in front of the palace, following the emperor's orders, persuaded the enemy to make peace. They raised the tiger banner and announced the emperor's decree.
The King of Huainan had no doubts, so he opened the battle line, took off his armor, and knelt to receive the imperial edict.
However, the general had already surrendered to Zhao, so he took the opportunity to draw his sword and behead him.
The heroes were enraged and instead of retreating, they advanced and massacred Luoyang in blood.
The four words "draw the sword and behead" looked like some astronomical secret symbols. Feng Yanyuan read them over and over again until the white silk was soaked with sweat from his palms.
No one knew what was in the mind of the King of Huainan when he gave the order to deploy the troops, marched forward alone, and received the order according to etiquette.
Did the prince ever consider that the belated "east wind" concealed a poisoned blade? Did he ever suspect that the general before the palace was holding the Emperor's White Tiger Banner, a forged edict from the Prince of Zhao? Or perhaps, having long foreseen the murderous intent, he chose to accept it calmly—simply because it was, after all, his brother's trusted advisor, and the Emperor's White Tiger Banner. Without the imperial edict, and with the Emperor's majesty before him, any hesitation would be disobedience; any refusal would be treason.
Perhaps he only wanted to gamble this once. He wanted to gamble that the royal family's reputation would not be insulted, that he would be known as a "loyal and brave army" after his death, and that he would gamble on the "loyalty and righteousness" that he believed in all his life.
The King of Huainan lost the bet. He lost at the very moment before success.
What would have been the outcome if he had disregarded the emperor's orders and the greater good, and had broken into the palace, beheaded the generals, and taken King Zhao directly?
But he is no longer the King of Huainan who believed in "loyalty and righteousness" until his death.
The King of Huainan did not die in a conspiracy, but was martyred by his lifelong belief.
Feng Yanyuan tightly grasped the white silk that crushed his faith, and finally collapsed in the sticky wet soil of Wangyue Valley - the tiny soil that buried the corpses of countless slaves.
The anger burned out, leaving only overwhelming sorrow. He had never tasted the feeling of powerlessness so clearly.
My father's words still echoed in my ears: "The situation is decided. If you stay in Luoyang, you will only bring disaster to the Feng family."
Maybe my father was right.
He was the imperial guard, a top-tier expert. Even with the power of a telekinetic palm, he couldn't have stopped the close, unexpected attack. Among the heroes present, some were renowned for their speed—but who could have imagined such a dark and absurd strike would be delivered in broad daylight?
But his young heart still screamed: He wanted to fight alongside those heroes whose blood had been shed in Luoyang! He wanted to avenge the King of Huainan right then and there! He wanted to slay the general who had lost all his martial virtue! He wanted to tear apart the false facade of Luoyang City made of gold and jade! He wanted to drag those sneering rats hiding in the sewers out into the sunlight! He wanted to chop them up! He wanted to hang them out to dry!
But at this moment, he could only lie in this cage, staring at the dark moon in silent despair.
So when Feng Yanhao came to Wangyue Valley, he got what he wanted and saw a brother in a miserable state.
Feng Yanyuan had endured a long period of grief, his face was deathly still, just like the bodies that had been buried here.
But Feng Yanhao only needed one sentence to instantly provoke Feng Yanyuan into a frenzy: "Third brother really has a good sword!"
Yuan'er!
Feng Yanyuan suddenly jumped up, "What did you do?!"
Feng Yanhao challenged with a smile, "She killed my uncle. Even if I did something, what Feng family rule did I violate?" A sneer formed on his lips. "Oh, I forgot, Third Brother is no longer a halberd bearer - what can you do to me now?"
Feng Yanyuan suddenly turned towards the vent leading to the outside of Wangyue Valley and shouted, "Feng Jiu! Yuanfengwei! Yuanfengwei, answer me!"
"Feng Jiu hasn't come back yet. These past few days, Luoyang City has been littered with corpses. He'll have to search for a while before he can find your good girl."
Feng Yanyuan rushed forward and grabbed Feng Yanhao by the collar. His words were stuck in his throat with anger, and he could only shout tremblingly: "You! You..."
Feng Yanhao grabbed his wrist with his backhand, and the two men struggled with their wrists, reaching a stalemate for a while.
"That girl is determined to kill my uncle. If I give her a little spark, she'll be like a moth..." Feng Yanhao narrowed his eyes, and his fingertips trembled slightly, imitating the fluttering of a moth's wings, "She's coming..."
Feng Yanyuan roared, exerted his strength suddenly, and threw Feng Yanhao out fiercely!
Feng Yanhao rolled over to the ground, still chuckling softly. "Honestly, this girl... is truly an exceptional spy. She cleans up the Feng family's mess while also preventing you and me from violating clan rules... Hahaha. Oh, do you want to know how your uncle died?" He tapped his throat lightly with his fingertips. "An iron spike pierced his throat, and a raging fire left not even a bone... Your girl is truly ruthless."
Feng Yanyuan's eyes were red as he roared, "What on earth did you do to her?!"
"Heh, I thought you would ask my uncle first." Feng Yanhao said slowly, "As for her, I'll wait until she gets her revenge and her long-cherished wish is fulfilled, and then..." He raised his hand and pulled the bowstring, pretending to release the arrow, "The black iron arrow specially made by the Northern Frontier General, 'Swish'! It hits..."
Before he finished speaking, Feng Yanyuan had already launched a palm strike, and the domineering energy knocked Feng Yanhao back three feet, and blood spurted out!
But then, an invisible force came from all sides, strangling him, the backlash like a thousand blades piercing his body. Feng Yanyuan suppressed the pain and once again gathered his strength to pounce on his brother, who was lying on the ground, spitting blood, but still holding up a sneer.
A figure suddenly blocked his way, and Feng Yanxuan placed his palm on his chest. "Are you crazy?! This is a prison! If you continue to use the formation, all your meridians will be damaged, and all your martial arts skills will be lost! Do you want to become like Feng Xiaoming?!"
Feng Yanhao was coughing up blood, but he was still laughing and shouting: "Come on! Third brother! Kill your brother for your sweetheart!"
"He killed Yuan'er." Feng Yanyuan's eyes were bloodshot, and he pushed Feng Yanxuan away. "Go away! Don't think I won't hurt you."
"If he really killed Yuan'er," Feng Yanxuan hugged him tightly with both arms and stared into his eyes, "would he just provoke you with words?"
Feng Yanyuan was stunned. The fierce and sinister look in his eyes suddenly turned clear. He turned to Feng Yanxuan in a daze, "She...she's still alive?"
"Mind your own business." Feng Yanhao snorted coldly and stumbled to his feet. "When will you be able to step into Wangyue Valley?"
Feng Yanxuan turned to look at him and said calmly, "Mother is looking for you."
Feng Yanhao was slightly stunned, snorted coldly, and disappeared step by step into the thick night.
Feng Yanyuan clutched his brother's arm tightly, his voice hoarse, almost pleading: "Is she alive? Is she okay?"
Feng Yanxuan sighed, "She had a master helping her, but now there is no trace of her."
"Then...are you injured?"
"Indeed, she was hit by an arrow." He brushed the dust off his brother's shoulder. "But...didn't you give her the Second Madam's golden silk soft armor?"
Feng Yanyuan felt relieved and sat down on the ground suddenly. His tense expression gradually relaxed. "Yes, yes... She is so smart, how could she..." A dry smile appeared on the corner of his lips. "She will be fine."
Feng Yanxuan sat down beside him. "But big brother is right. Feng Xiaoming was indeed pierced through the throat by an iron spike, and his body was burned to ashes."
Feng Yanyuan was slightly stunned and murmured in a low voice: "Flesh and blood are slaughtered by family, abandoned by both humans and gods. Died by a pierced throat, reduced to ashes..."
"Yes, the ballad I've been reciting since I was a child, has finally come true one day... right before my eyes." Feng Yanxuan sighed softly and turned to look at his younger brother. "You too, you knew that I was deliberately provoking you, but you still fell for it."
Feng Yanyuan took off the sachet from his waist, gently stroked the crude embroidery on it with his fingertips, and a layer of tears gradually appeared in his eyes.
"What is this embroidered?" Feng Yanxuan leaned over, frowned, looked at it carefully, and reached out to take a look.
Feng Yanyuan, however, grasped the sachet into his palm and said, "It's a flying bird."
Feng Yanxuan uttered a questioning "Huh?" and just as his hand touched his brother's fist, he retracted his arm and dodged it. When he looked up again, he saw that the face that had been lifeless for days was now covered with a soft light, as if reflecting the bright moonlight.
Feng Yanyuan was looking up at the crescent moon in the sky, not knowing what he was thinking, his eyes were distant and gentle.
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