Chapter 42: Fallen Flowers, Heartless, Willingly Embark on Their Own Journey into the Mud
Things change, just as late autumn has an end, winter will come, and fallen flowers will drift away with the water.
This was Xie Huailing's last visit to Yuan Dongyuan.
"The Bat Prince" was already a household name in Bianjing, and his ruthless actions only added fuel to the fire. He directly obtained the information from the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, which, to onlookers, made it seem as if the Chief Constable had descended like a divine warrior, wielding power so easily that the rabble could scatter like birds and beasts, all bowing down to his grasp. As the details of the events gradually became clearer, Wuzheng Manor was increasingly embroiled in the matter, and a torrent of doubts surged forth, surging relentlessly.
Of course, the matter is not yet settled. To outsiders, Wuzheng Manor will surely be able to produce evidence, and Wuqing will definitely clear its name. But only Yuan Dongyuan knows how much torment he endures day and night. His innocence was never there from the beginning. Yuan Suiyun's capture was only a matter of time. Yuan Dongyuan simply cannot protect his son in front of the Divine Marquis's Mansion. Wuzheng Manor's century-old reputation will melt away in an instant.
Some things are as difficult to build as moving mountains, but can be destroyed in the blink of an eye.
Xie Huailing stepped into the Yuan residence. This time, she went not to the courtyard of the former East Garden, but to the main hall.
Upon entering the mansion, she was immediately struck by a deathly chill, a sense of emptiness and indifference. Several withered chrysanthemums lay drooping, their yellowed petals scattered and turned to dust. Though the mansion still possessed its former glory, the fallen blossoms hinted at an irreversible decline. The facade of "non-contention" was merely a facade. The servants on either side of her stood with their heads bowed, unaware of what had transpired behind the scenes, unaware that the impending collapse was about to unfold.
Xie Huailing still presented her visiting card respectfully, maintaining her aloof and polite demeanor as a junior. In her arms, she held the original copy of "The Wandering Chronicles" that needed to be returned, as if she had truly only come to return the book and, incidentally, to ask a few unimportant questions.
Yuan Dongyuan sat in a round-backed chair on the left side of the hall, his back hunched over so badly that he seemed to have been crushed by the wind and rain. His body was empty, as if all the life force had been drained from his body. Hearing footsteps, he slowly raised his head. Xie Huailing looked at him and saw that in just a few days, the old man seemed to have aged ten years. The lines on his face were as deep as if carved by a knife, his eyes were sunken and cloudy, filled with layers of blood vessels, and he exuded a withered and decaying air.
His gaze toward Xie Huailing was unfocused, but it was quickly refocused by a forced expression. He moved his lips and uttered, "Miss Xie, please sit down."
Xie Huailing greeted him and politely sat down at the head of the table.
She wasn't surprised by Yuan Dongyuan's decline. A man who had spent most of his life running away from the world, suddenly swept up in the storms of life and chased by responsibilities, with his entire family leaning on him, was bound to collapse. Everyone in the martial world knew that Wuzheng Manor had no other bloodline.
With Yuan Suiyun captured and Yuan Dongyuan aging, the once glorious No. 1 Manor under Heaven will completely withdraw from the stage of martial arts, its towering buildings crumbling, never to return. Yuan Dongyuan sits here, listening to the countdown of Wuzheng Manor.
Xie Huailing returned the original copy of "The Wandering Chronicles" to Yuan Dongyuan, saying, "I have finished reading 'The Wandering Chronicles' and have come today to return the book. I also brought a small gift, which I hope Master Yuan will accept."
Yuan Dongyuan smiled with some difficulty, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, which were filled with sorrow: "It's really kind of you to have such a kind thought."
He ordered someone to send the "Drifting Chronicles" back to the storeroom, and opened the gift Xie Huailing had given him. It was a painting. The young man in the painting was spirited and dashing, wielding a long sword with a valiant air. It was all too familiar to Yuan Dongyuan. He stared at the painting, speechless for a long time.
It was as if he had returned to many years ago, perhaps thirty or forty years ago, when he was still a young man. Back then, a painting like this always hung on the wall of his study, with the inscription: "Unrivaled in strength, like the green mountains before me; sweeping away bandits a thousand miles, upholding righteousness." At that time, Wuzheng Manor was the most powerful in the land, revered by all. He, too, still possessed a sliver of ambition, newly married, and eager to achieve his goals. Why, then, did time pass, and why did things keep getting postponed, ultimately turning out like this?
He didn't speak or close the painting. Xie Huailing spoke up, "This is an original work by Senior Yuan Qingshan that I got from my cousin. I thought it would be perfect to give it to Master Yuan."
Yuan Dongyuan chuckled twice and said, "Thank you so much, young lady, for remembering this old man."
He knew that Xie Huailing, as Su Mengzhen's cousin, probably knew as much as Wuqing about the "Bat Prince" scandal that was currently causing such a stir in the city. But since she was still willing to return the book and give him gifts to save face, there was no need for Yuan Dongyuan to investigate further at this point.
Yuan Dongyuan looked lost in thought as he slowly rolled up the painting and placed it on the table beside him. He held the tea in his hand but didn't drink it, just staring at the surface of the tea. Xie Huailing also remained silent, and no one broke the silence.
After an unknown amount of time, Yuan Dongyuan spoke up: "Miss Xie, have you finished reading 'The Tale of Wandering'? Did you gain anything from it?"
Xie Huailing nodded and said, "I have gained a lot and I understand why my mother loved The Wandering Chronicles so much back then."
"Then, Miss Xie..." Yuan Dongyuan's voice seemed to fade into the distance. When a person is about to die, their words are often kind, let alone when they are filled with sorrow. "What do you think of the scholar's final fate?"
Xie Huailing recalled the scholar's final fate, dying by crashing into a tree in front of his parents' graves. She concealed the deep meaning in her eyes and said softly, "I don't think it can be considered a bad ending."
She remained calm and composed, each word striking Yuan Dongyuan's heart: "At first, I didn't understand why he had to go to the point of madness and crashing into a tree, and why the author had to write such a tragedy. But after thinking about it carefully, perhaps it wasn't madness, and the story was never a tragedy."
"Good and evil will eventually be rewarded. For those he betrayed, those he oppressed, including his former self, this is the best possible ending. He had already tainted his life, only to realize his mistakes at his parents' graves. At that point, there was no other way for him. He could not return to his original self, nor could he continue to do evil after repentance. Death was the only option left for him, the only way to prove that something of his had not been completely erased."
"He betrayed his aspirations, let down his parents and deceased wife, and wallowed in the mire of fame and fortune, becoming filthy and unrecognizable. Only that crash, that blood splattered on the tombstone, perhaps in his heart, was a belated, bloody closure for the clean version of himself he once was. Only death could..."
Xie Huailing emphasized these four words: "Finally, they found their place."
"Finally...where did it all go?"
Yuan Dongyuan repeated these four words, and in his cloudy old eyes, a great pain and confusion instantly welled up. He did see himself—the boy who once carried the glory of his ancestors and dreamed of roaming the land with a sword, how he had gradually retreated under the dual pressure of the heavy reputation of Wuzheng Manor and his own lack of talent, shutting himself in and eventually becoming a dog guarding the family business while letting the manor's glory fade.
He shirked the responsibilities he should have borne as the head of the manor, avoided the storms of the martial world, and also avoided the guidance and discipline he should have given to his son, Yuan Suiyun, whose twisted mind had developed after he went blind at a young age. He didn't know why he had come to this point, why the reputation of Wuzheng Manor had been ruined, or why his son, who should have been upright and honorable, had become the "Bat Prince" that everyone hated, yet he chose to protect him. Now, this immense regret and pain gnawed at him.
"Yes," Xie Huailing said. Her judgment of the scholar was also a warning to Yuan Dongyuan. "Rather than continuing to struggle in the mire and obliterating the last vestiges of his humanity, it is better to end it here. This action may seem mad, but it is actually the most resolute choice he has made in his cowardly life. He has repaid the debt he could not repay with his life in the most tragic way, and only death can prove that his ambition and his past ideals truly existed."
She looked at Yuan Dongyuan's trembling hands, catching the gloom and struggle in his eyes as he was on the verge of collapse, and slowly said, "So this can't be considered a bad ending. He has to bear the consequences of his own actions. At least when he sees his parents and deceased wife in the afterlife, he won't be completely ashamed."
After hearing what she said, Yuan Dongyuan muttered something, and his withered face lost all expression.
He had been deceiving himself for many years, but now the thin ice has shattered, and the bloody reality is something he brought upon himself. He and the scholar in the play may never have been any different.
He evaded everything his entire life. He evaded responsibility, evaded the martial world, evaded disciplining his son, and even after the tragedy, he continued to run away, attempting to cover it up with protection and concealment. He was cowardly to the core. But now, the edifice is crumbling. Will the three-hundred-year-old reputation of Wuzheng Manor truly plummet into an abyss of eternal damnation along with that rebellious son and his choices, nailed to the pillar of shame in the martial world, and subjected to the endless scorn of posterity?
He has let down his ancestors, and he has let down himself; he has always let himself down.
Or perhaps he was no longer himself. Yuan Dongyuan remained silent because he didn't know what else to say.
He struggled for a while before speaking, then recalled many years ago, saying to this younger person who probably knew nothing about him: "Many years ago, before my wife passed away, I wanted to make something of myself. Even if I didn't have the ability, I still wanted to do something."
The characters in the book are never just characters in the book. He said again, "But I don't have the courage. I don't have the courage before I have the talent."
Saying those words made him feel much better. Acknowledging this fact at the end of his life felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Yuan Dongyuan let out a long sigh, and then he suddenly smiled.
He hadn't smiled so freely since Xie Huailing first met him; all his wrinkles had smoothed out. He didn't care about Xie Huailing's reaction to his words anymore. Because he had already made up his mind.
"I have a gift to give back to Miss Xie, and also to Master Su," he said with a smile. "Perhaps Miss Xie could wait a moment. If you have something else to do, you can have your maid stay and fetch it. I need a little time."
Xie Huailing knew then that everything was coming to an end.
She said, "Then I will let my maid stay."
Then she took her leave, withered branches and fallen leaves lying outside the window, the door to the main hall slammed shut, and the faces of Yuan Dongyuan inside the door scattered. This was indeed the last time she saw him.
Shaman leaned against the door, her eyes half-closed. She was dressed as a maid, having been sent to the White Tower for several days to learn disguise techniques. She was finally able to suppress her sword intent and act like an ordinary maid. This was a backup plan for Xie Huailing, but it was no longer needed. Xie Huailing walked up to her, and Shaman opened her eyes upon hearing footsteps.
"You stay here," Xie Huailing said. "You don't need to follow the original plan anymore. Yuan Dongyuan will give you something; you can bring it over."
Shaman frowned and asked, "Don't we need to kill him?"
Xie Huailing shook his head and said only, "No need. He wants to maintain his dignity, so we don't need to do anything. This is the best-case scenario."
She didn't finish her sentence, because there was no need to. Everything would come to an end today. The carriage was still parked outside the Yuan residence, and another storm awaited her today. The lingering chill of late autumn was palpable; she could smell the rain again. Soon after the rain came snow, which would cover everything. When winter came, the earth would be a vast expanse of white, leaving nothing behind.
Shaman was left waiting outside the main hall. She didn't drink tea or eat anything; she just stood there after Xie Huailing left.
Servants kept bringing documents into the main hall, but she didn't know what they were doing. All she knew was that she should obey Xie Huailing, so she waited.
There were many, many pages of books rustling, and things falling to the ground. After an unknown amount of time, a wooden box was handed to her. Yuan Dongyuan did not see Shaman.
Shaman weighed the wooden box in her hand; it probably contained paper as well. Without pausing for a moment, she immediately set off. Then she smelled a scent and heard a lot of noise.
Shaman paused, understanding what Xie Huailing had left unsaid.
.
A faint, lingering smell of rust and gunpowder permeated the air, mingling with the chill of late autumn, in the eye of another storm.
A woman arrived late, stopping in front of an inconspicuous two-story wooden building at the end of the alley. Surrounded by silent guards, she ascended the building to the street-facing attic, pushed open the creaking wooden door, and a biting wind rushed in, causing her clothes to flutter and her hair to toss. Below, the fiercest battleground was unfolding; upstairs, the red-clad swordsman turned and extended his hand to her.
As the saying goes, one can become famous overnight and bring shame to the world. One should seize the day and make a name for oneself while one is young, taking advantage of the beautiful landscape.
From then on, he left his name in the martial world, and all respected and feared him. He possessed a treasure, and it was only a matter of a moment. He was a true hero. He could overcome all obstacles and repel countless enemies. He was as magnanimous as clouds and rain.
In this drizzling rain, amidst the glint of swords and the clash of blades, the tide of victory is unstoppable, and the tide of defeat is irreversible. Others who witness this will surely be shocked, knowing that the decline is irreversible. Standing by the alley, they will have a thousand words to say, but all they can say is a sigh.
Lei Sun stood on the upper floor at the alley entrance, surrounded by the glint of blades, the mist of blood, the screams of the dying, and the deafening clash of weapons. This was a scene from the martial world he was already familiar with, yet today it felt utterly bizarre. Su Mengzhen had launched a surprise attack, seizing a strategically important location from the Six and a Half Hall, thus initiating this unexpected conflict. Lei Sun had tried to defend himself, but found himself helpless at every turn, as if he had been thrown onto someone else's chessboard.
Their usual ambush points are always anticipated by the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, who can always bypass them a step in advance and then strike from a more cunning angle to their rear; their planned support routes are always precisely cut off, as if their opponents have already seen through all their moves. The Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion's style of play today is completely different from before. It is no longer the grand and straightforward style of Su Mengzhen, which relies on force to overcome skill, but has become a sharp, cunning, and even somewhat terrifyingly unpredictable style.
Not far away, a skilled fighter from the Golden Wind and Drizzle Pavilion who had rushed forward was struck in the chest by a palm strike from the Six and a Half Hall. The man coughed up blood and flew backward, but Lei Sun's face showed no sign of triumph, only deep surprise and suspicion. His hawk-like gaze swept across the chaotic battle, his brows furrowed tightly into a knot.
The defeat was inevitable. He said, "I never expected that the Golden Wind and Drizzle Pavilion would have such abilities."
Lei Sun calmed himself down. To have reached this position, his courage far surpassed that of ordinary people. He wouldn't fly into a rage because of a temporary setback, nor would he wallow in self-pity. In his youth, he had a fiery temper, which helped him make a name for himself. But now, he knew he had to be patient.
Many times, all we can do is endure.
He went to ask Di Feijing, "Second brother, tell me, why did Su Mengzhen use this move?"
Beside him, Di Feijing, head bowed and eyes lowered, was also on edge. Although he hadn't made a direct move, his eyes scanned every inch of the alley, rapidly observing every subtle change in the battle. His mind was silently calculating; the seemingly casual yet incredibly precise weaving, dividing, and encircling maneuvers of the Golden Wind and Drizzle Tower were causing his concerns to grow.
Di Feijing said, his words carrying an eye that seemed to be looking down on the game: "Today, the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion has changed its player, and its actions are not in Su Mengzhen's style. Although there are still traces of Su Mengzhen in its actions, the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion is not being led or directed by him. At most, he is just participating."
Lei Sun certainly sensed it too; as an old rival, he couldn't possibly be oblivious. Su Mengzhen was a sick tiger, a lone wolf, with imposing momentum and an unyielding spirit. Yet today, the Golden Wind and Drizzle Pavilion's tactics were unpredictable and cunning, with flawless strategies. One could even say they used people like soldiers, more like a snake or a thousand-year-old fox.
Since defeat was inevitable, the Golden Wind and Drizzle Pavilion quickened its pace in the final stages. The last defensive line set up by the Six and a Half Hall was precisely weakened, and under the opponent's seemingly prescient attack, it quickly began to collapse and disintegrate. Blood stained the bluestone slabs, and more and more people fell.
"Withdraw." Lei Sun made a decisive decision, wanting to preserve more manpower. Today's defeat was a defeat, but in the future, they would surely repay the debt tenfold.
However, just as he was about to leave, a swift figure darted across the chaotic battlefield and landed in front of Lei Sun and Di Feijing. The newcomer was dressed in the Six and a Half Hall's tight-fitting clothes, his breathing was unstable, and half of his body was covered in blood. He clasped his hands in a fist salute to Lei Sun: "Grand Hall Master, Great Hall Master, a message has come from the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, saying that they want to invite you."
He knew that spreading this message was risky, and he couldn't help but tremble as he finished speaking: "They even said it several times over there, asking the Grand Master to definitely go with them."
Lei Sun and Di Fei exchanged a startled glance, their eyes filled with a dark cloud.
He suddenly laughed and said, "Young man, you don't know how to restrain yourself, you're really impolite."
He had no reason not to go, and he was eager to meet this young man properly today.
.
The pavilion was built over the lake, its windows overlooking the vast, misty lake in late autumn. A cold wind whipped up fine white waves, lapping against the withered reeds on the shore with a mournful sound. This was the very place chosen by the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion today. Inside, a fine charcoal fire burned, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Not a trace of the chilling killing intent outside had penetrated, yet the expansive windows offered a clear view of the battlefield.
Lei Sun and Di Fei stepped into the waterside pavilion in shock. His face was ashen, and he locked his gaze on them at a glance.
Su Mengzhen was standing not far away.
He wasn't leaning against the left side of the window because the curtains were drawn; nor was he leaning against the right side, even though the storm had just passed and the last vestiges of cold wind were still gathering outside, he didn't look. At this point, Lei Sun was certain that he was not in control of these things today.
Su Mengzhen didn't even turn his face towards the window; he stood with his back to the alleyway, hands behind his back, looking at Lei Sun. Victory was the best attire; his sickly appearance no longer mattered. He truly exuded an aura of overwhelming power, his eyes shining astonishingly bright against his striking red robe. Lei Sun had seen him many times, but this time, Su Mengzhen had drawn a line between himself and the past.
Impressive, yes, impressive, but his is even more impressive.
The victor needs no words; the one who speaks first is always the loser. Lei Sun's voice boomed: "Today, Master Su is quite the showman."
But Su Mengzhen did not directly answer Lei Sun's aggressive questioning. He looked at Lei Sun, then shifted his gaze, past Lei Sun's burly figure, and landed on Di Feijing, who was standing behind Lei Sun with his head bowed.
“Master Di,” Su Mengzhen’s voice rang out, “A good bird chooses a good tree to perch on, and a wise minister chooses a good master to serve. Master Lei is indeed a man of great talent and ambition, but the world of martial arts is vast, and there may be even wider opportunities. The Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion is eager to find talented people, and with your abilities, we are willing to offer you a high position. What do you think?”
Right in front of Lei Sun, he actually recruited Di Feijing, wanting to dig out the towering white jade pillar and the sea-supporting purple gold beam of Liufenbantang!
However, Lei Sun was not annoyed. He did not feel angry in the face of such provocation. He shook his head, as if to say that the young man was too arrogant.
He had absolute confidence in Di Feijing, and this confidence was demonstrated by Di Feijing's humble demeanor as he resolutely rejected him in Su Mengzhen's direction: "Lord Su's kindness is too much for me. I am a member of the Six and a Half Hall in life and in death. This will never change."
The refusal was swift and decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.
Su Mengzhen seemed to have expected this, showing no disappointment on his face, but rather a faint hint of admiration for his opponent. He nodded slightly, said nothing more, and turned his gaze back to Lei Sun.
Lei Sun understood the outcome and said, "It's a good thing that Master Su appreciates the people of Six and a Half Hall. But since Master Su values talent, perhaps you should look for someone else."
Their verbal sparring was no less intense than a sword fight. But to everyone's surprise, just as Lei Sun was unexpectedly not angry that he was trying to recruit Di Fei, Su Mengzhen actually agreed with Lei Sun's statement and nodded.
“That’s fine,” he said.
Okay? What does that mean?
Such nonsensical words coming from Su Mengzhen were something Lei Sun was determined to understand. Su Mengzhen made a movement; he slowly walked to the left side of the window, his steps unhurried. A heavy, dark green brocade curtain hung there, letting in no light, making it impossible to see what was behind it. Lei Sun sensed someone behind the curtain, but didn't know who it was. He saw Su Mengzhen stop in front of the curtain, not lifting it, but simply turning sideways and stopping.
Like a signal, the curtains sway gently.
A hand, as white as jade, gently lifted the edge of the curtain. Immediately afterwards, a figure calmly stepped out from behind the curtain.
Clad in plain white robes with jet-black hair, two red moles adorned her delicate, jade-like cheeks. Her eyes were vacant and indifferent, as if nothing in the world mattered to her. The beauty of the world lay right before her, yet the sharpness of her scheming was palpable. She stood serenely beside Su Mengzhen, possessing both unparalleled physical prowess and unparalleled wisdom. In the eye of the storm of confrontation between the two giants of Bianjing, she remained unfathomably calm.
There's no need to mention who today's opponent is; even Lei Sun, as the opponent, has to admit that Su Mengzhen has gained an extraordinary confidant.
He likes beautiful women; no man dislikes a beautiful woman. He also likes intelligent women, who often have shrewd minds, and intelligent beauties are even more so. He doesn't think he can't control them, whether as a subordinate or in any other way.
But a stunningly beautiful and intelligent woman is different. She's the most formidable of all, a femme fatale, someone you have to avoid at all costs.
He had already recognized who it was, or perhaps he had underestimated it: "So it's Miss Xie."
Xie Huailing didn't respond. She wouldn't look at anyone. If she had to look, she would only glance at Su Mengzhen occasionally, and then look at Di Feijing out of the corner of her eye.
She was exhausted today; the amount of exercise she did was excessive, but without a doubt, she was still very interested. Su Mengzhen pushed her to the highest point, bringing her to the front of the stage. From a wandering swordsman, she had become the one holding the chess pieces. He even laid out a cushion and made her clothes. As promised, a distinguished guest should receive the highest level of treatment for her debut. From this day forward, the title of the most powerful woman in the martial arts world would likely change hands.
Just like earning an honorary title in a game, she was very interested; it was something she deserved.
Di Fei's reaction was more interesting; his gaze arrived even faster than Lei Sun's. The shy, seemingly timid young man's eyes held a tangible intensity. They had met many times before, and it seemed they had once been intimately close. Therefore, he wasn't surprised by her appearance; his surprise was rare. All the romantic fantasies, all the subtle probing, he knew from the beginning would fade away like a warm illusion, eventually revealing their naked, calculating nature.
In the dim light of the theater, she brushed the hair on his neck as she leaned closer; when they met by chance at a corner, her soft, boneless hand grasped his sleeve; when she poured the wine stained with rouge into his cup, her seemingly genuine plea for pity... These moments, separated by a subtle distance yet shrouded in ambiguity and probing, were all clearly fake, yet she remembered them vividly, as if they were still fresh in her mind.
Di Fei lowered his gaze; he couldn't think about it anymore.
Lei Sun still had something to say, but almost simultaneously, footsteps climbed upwards, revealing only one voice. He realized there was no ambush, relaxed his grip, and a cold, aloof beauty pushed open the door and entered.
Shaman appeared at the doorway, her hair slightly disheveled and her shoulders still damp, clearly having rushed over. Ignoring the tense atmosphere inside the pavilion, she followed Xie Huailing's instructions and walked to Su Mengzhen and Xie Huailing, holding a familiar sandalwood box and a letter with its corners curled up.
She took two steps at a time: "This is a gift from Wuzheng Manor to the owner."
Lei Sun's eyelids twitched; before a bad premonition could even form, Xie Huailing asked Shaman, "Then, what about Wuzheng Manor?"
Shaman said, "Yuan Dongyuan wrote Yuan Suiyun's confession, saying that he had expelled Yuan Suiyun from the clan and left him to be disposed of at will. Then he burned himself in the main hall of the Yuan Mansion to completely destroy the reputation of Wuzheng Mountain Villa."
She unfolded the letter in her hand and read aloud: "Your sinner, Yuan Dongyuan, bows his head."
"If a son is not taught, it is the father's fault. This rebellious son, Suiyun, has committed heinous crimes, unforgivable by heaven and earth. His actions are also due to my own failure to discipline him properly and my indulgence and protection of him. I have no face to live in this world, nor to meet the ancestors of my manor in the afterlife. I leave my son's crimes to the Divine Marquis's Mansion and to the fellow martial artists of the Jianghu to deal with without complaint. I only wish that my death may atone for his sins and ensure that the reputation of my Wuzheng Manor remains intact..."
The truth has come out!
Only now did Lei Sun and Di Fei realize why public opinion had spiraled out of control, why Xiao Yan had suddenly appeared at the Divine Marquis's Mansion, why Yuan Suiyun had been exposed so thoroughly, and why Wuzheng Manor had collapsed so quickly! Behind all of this was not only the Divine Marquis's Mansion, but also an invisible hand from the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion! Their Six and a Half Hall had been used, made into pawns to force Yuan Dongyuan to his death and ultimately allow the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion to reap the benefits.
He made a wedding dress for Su Mengzhen!
This was intolerable. Lei Sun's face turned from white to green, but the head of the Six and a Half Hall would not show his emotions so openly. Shrewdness and deep calculation were his true characteristics.
Su Mengzhen ignored the swords lurking in the shadows. He took the confession from Shaman, glanced at it casually, and handed it to Xie Huailing beside him. Then, he personally opened the sandalwood box.
In the dim light, all that could be seen inside the box was a stack of papers. Su Mengzhen glanced at it and then snapped the lid shut, nailing the final nail to the coffin of Wuzheng Manor's glorious past.
After reading it, he finally looked up at Lei Sun. He had finished what he needed to do today and won a great victory. It was time to see the guests off: "Since there are other matters to attend to, let's leave it at that for today. Chief Hall Master Lei, Chief Hall Master Di, please."
The way he arrogantly issued the order to leave made it seem as if the thrilling alleyway battle and the astonishing revelations were merely insignificant episodes, and that he was destined to win.
Lei Sun's expression didn't change at all. He stared intently at Xie Huailing, trying to confirm who was behind all this, and said in a deep voice, "No rush, we'll meet again another day. One day you may have the east wind, but not every day you may have the east wind."
After saying this, he flicked his sleeve and turned to leave. Di Feijing followed closely behind, his demeanor humble, neither elated nor saddened by the outcome. But just before stepping out of the waterside pavilion, he stopped.
He turned his head slightly and took one last look at the waterside pavilion.
Outside the window, the river raged against the banks, creating a deafening roar; the Bian River was weeping for no reason once more. Xie Huailing leaned against the lakeside window, gazing at the pool of blood outside, a few strands of hair clinging to her pale cheek. She was looking in the direction of the Yuan residence.
What is she thinking?
She wasn't surprised by Yuan Dongyuan's choice; she knew he was determined to die before she left. Yuan Suiyun's capture wouldn't allow the martial world to still respect Wuzheng Manor. Yuan Dongyuan finally woke up; all he could do was deliver himself to his doom.
Xie Huailing prepared many methods, and fortunately he was very sensible. At the last moment of his life, he still took on the responsibility of the master of Wuzheng Manor. He was not completely bad, nor could he be considered good.
After his death, with no other bloodline remaining at Wuzheng Manor, his vast estate would simply be divided and confiscated. Yuan Dongyuan naturally had to make some arrangements, which was why she used her connections in the end. However, it was impossible to go along with Yuan Dongyuan's wishes. His arrangements fell into the hands of Jinfeng Xiyulou, and how they were arranged was entirely up to them.
She saw the firelight and the slowly rising gray smoke. This might be called the absurdity of life, but what would she, as the one manipulating it, think?
Having reached the pinnacle of her martial arts career, from an unknown nobody who fell into a lake to someone of high status, what were her thoughts?
As Di Fei looked over, a clear and ethereal female voice, piercing through countless tears of blood, rang out softly.
Xie Huailing sang softly, singing the last lyrics of "The Wandering Chronicle":
"Saying that fallen flowers drift with the current is beyond one's control, but it is clearly a voluntary act of chasing after foulness and sinking into the mire. Only the physical body remains to turn to dust and soil, so that all kinds of regrets can be swallowed up, swallowed up."
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There is one more chapter at the end of the volume to clarify some plot points, and then this volume will conclude.
[Heart emoji] I'll be doing another giveaway for this chapter, again based on comments. The winners will be announced tomorrow when I update. I haven't had many comments lately, sob sob.
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