Chapter 19: Xingyi Sword Technique
The dew is heavy in late autumn.
Wen Yao heard Zhao Xuanxu's words and stepped forward, raising her hand to press against the back of his neck. Zhao Xuanxu's expression was submissive, and without resistance, he bent down to Wen Yao's force, his upper body leaning over the window frame to face her. Wen Yao cupped his forehead and felt a burning sensation.
Come on, I really have a fever.
"Shaoshan!" Wen Yao turned around and called out to Gao Shaoshan, who was stuffing his mouth with mutton skewers: "Go find a doctor!"
Gao Shaoshan bit the meat in his mouth and glanced at Zhao Xuanxu. Suddenly, he realized something and was about to say something when he felt Zhao Xuanxu's gaze on him. He choked, stretched his neck to swallow the meat, clapped his hands, stood up, picked up his sword, and ran out.
Wen Yao held Zhao Xuanxu's shoulders and told him to step back. She turned over and slipped through the gap between the window and Zhao Xuanxu, standing inside the room. She pulled Zhao Xuanxu to sit down, and the two of them gathered around the stove.
Not long after, Gao Shaoshan strode in, followed by a middle-aged man who looked unfamiliar. He carried a medicine chest and, at first, looked wary, clutching the sword at his waist. Wen Yao almost thought there was a tiger caged in the room. Upon entering the room, he took in Zhao Xuanxu's expression and breathed a sigh of relief, his tense back instantly relaxing.
"Isn't this okay?" He slapped Gao Shaoshan on the arm: "You scared me to death." He thought he had lost consciousness and started killing people.
Wen Yao stood up to make way for the man who looked like a doctor. Bai Rang was surprised to see her sitting next to Zhao Xuanxu, then waved his hands desperately to refuse: "No, no, I won't sit. Um, Your Highness, you summoned me here..."
What else can a doctor do? Didn’t Gao Shaoshan make it clear when he went to find him?
Wen Yao felt that this person's words and actions were strange, and frowned and said, "He has a fever. Can you see if he has caught a cold? Prescribe some medicine for him."
Bai Rang looked at Wen Yao again. "Ah, a cold? Well, well... OK, OK." He shuddered under Zhao Xuanxu's gaze and took out a thin thread and handed it to Zhao Xuanxu. "Your Highness, please."
Hanging pulse.
Wen Yao watched the trembling red light imprinted on Zhao Xuanxu's pale wrist. It trembled faster and faster, almost leaving an afterimage. She remained silent, pressing the hilt of the Xingyi sword against Bai Rang's trembling arm. "Doctor?"
Zhao Xuanxu's pulse was as chaotic as ever. The scorching, poisonous internal energy circulated through the Small Circulation, damaging his internal organs in minute detail and then causing them to give birth. This went against the laws of nature and might even breed the desires of evil spirits and demons.
"Your Highness." Bai Rang's forehead was sweating. "Your Highness is fine, just a little cold. I will prescribe some medicine for you right away."
Zhao Xuanxu sat across from him, his sleeves dragging on the ground and tangled with his hair. He didn't react, raising his hand to untie the red string from his wrist. Wen Yao flicked his finger, and the Xingyi Sword hummed and shone with a cold light. The red string remained intact, but the wooden table beneath it bore a distinct sword mark.
Her voice turned cold: "If I say cold, it means cold. I am a doctor, and you are a doctor?"
Bai Rang stared at the sword across his nose, his eyes wide open, slowly turning to the center. He then nodded repeatedly, his movements so rapid and rapid that it looked a bit comical. "I am, I am. Here, young lady, I'll prescribe a different medicine. I—"
He was not short in stature, but at this moment he was shaking like a quail.
Wen Yao looked up at Gao Shaoshan, then at Zhao Xuanxu who was looking at him with his head propped up. He sighed and put away his sword: "Alright, what's going on? You all know what's going on, and you're just trying to make fun of me, right?"
"Ayao, it's not like that." Zhao Xuanxu tugged at Wen Yao's sleeve with two fingers, chuckled softly, and spoke in a tender and sweet tone, "It's just that Ayao taught me medicine and worried about me. How could I waste this friendship?"
He pointed casually at Bai Rang and said, "This is Bai Rang, Wang Fu's disciple. I don't have a cold or fever, it's just that the martial arts I practice are special, so I occasionally feel uncomfortable."
Wang Fu, a master of rejuvenation and a world-renowned physician, traveled the world in search of the world's most precious medicinal herbs. When Wen Yao was in danger from a Gu poison in Nanzhao, it was Yan Cang who led his men into the local Miao village, brought Wang Fu to her, and extracted the poison that had penetrated deep into her internal organs, saving her life.
It turned out that he was Wang Fu's apprentice.
"Your master saved my life." Wen Yao patted Bai Rang's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry for being rude just now. Don't mind it."
Bai Rang wiped his sweat and stood up from his chair. "Nothing, nothing. Your Highness hasn't been summoned for a while, and when Lord Gao came looking for you just now, I thought something serious had happened to Your Highness, so I was really scared."
Wen Yao exerted force on his hands and pushed Bai Rang down again. "What does it mean that this technique is special?"
Zhao Xuanxu watched Wen Yao's movements, his hands twirling the fabric of her clothes, and said, "I started learning martial arts late, and the technique I'm practicing now is a Dali secret technique, which is quite profound. In just ten years, my internal strength and martial arts have improved rapidly. But the name sounds a bit scary, it's called Burning Heart."
"Burning Heart, the burning heart?" Wen Yao was familiar with the techniques and mental formulas of various sects and families in the martial arts world. Beyond the reputable and upright sects, the martial arts world also contained so-called deviant sects. Most of these sects employed unique techniques, often using human blood and life as fuel in exchange for a surge in strength. Wen Yao had never heard of Zhao Xuanxu's technique, but the name was more than a little intimidating; it was almost like calling it "demon art."
She turned her head to look at Zhao Xuanxu, and seeing the bright red burning from his neck and collarbone to his forehead, she couldn't help but ask, "But harming yourself in exchange for improving your skills? How do you feel about it now? How often does it happen?"
The corners of Zhao Xuanxu's lips curled up, and he looked up at Wen Yao with affectionate eyes from bottom to top. His expression was quite romantic and intimate, and he answered obediently: "Yes, it will occur once every seven or eight days. There will be some discomfort in the chest, but it's okay after all."
"Yan Cang..." Wen Yao took a deep breath and didn't say anything else.
There was no doubt that Yan Cang knew that Zhao Xuanxu was practicing the Burning Heart Technique. But since Zhao Xuanxu knew the consequences but still practiced it, and Yan Cang knew but didn't stop him, they must have their reasons.
Wen Yao is not a hero from a famous and upright family. She neither likes nor dislikes the evil cultivation methods, but these things will either harm others or hurt herself. If they happen to people around her, she still can't stand it.
Wen Yao: "You know your physical condition, do you have any good ideas now?"
"Don't worry, Yao. Burning Heart is treacherous, but it's only a little painful." Zhao Xuanxu said gently, "I know what's going on."
Wen Yao looked at his red forehead and felt a little worried.
But little brother, you really don't look well.
The pain from the burning heart emanated from within. Bai Rang wasn't Wang Fu, and without his unparalleled medical skills, it wouldn't have been of any use even if he had. After prescribing some rough painkillers, Bai Rang had Gao Shaoshan take him away again. Zhao Xuanxu, aside from a slight blush on his face, looked perfectly normal. He sat calmly, eating the mutton with Wen Yao before returning to his room.
Zhao Xuanxu said that he would be fine.
Wen Yao lay in bed, her hands behind her head, staring at the curtains hanging overhead, feeling rather irritated. One of her legs, stretched out over the covers to cool off, dangled by the window, and swayed.
She was not asleep and was wide awake, so when there was movement in the backyard, Wen Yao noticed it immediately.
She sighed and sat up, supporting herself with her hands at her sides to listen to the noise outside.
There was a very slight movement. The person who came in moved quickly, their martial arts skills were excellent, and they made no sound on the clanging glazed tiles. After reaching the courtyard entrance, they split into three groups. One group was engaged in a fight with Qianying and the others, one group was heading towards him, and one group was heading towards Zhao Xuanxu. The sounds of fighting could be heard from further away in the palace.
Wen Yao was full of energy, changed his clothes and went out.
She went through the dark window on the edge of the beam, a habit Wen Yao had developed during her time in the underworld. It just so happened that this path was also where assassins and secret guards often passed by. Wen Yao had just climbed out of the window, her body arched over the eaves, and she was face to face with an assassin.
Under the moonlight, the assassin immediately raised his knife and slashed at Wen Yao.
Honestly, these assassins weren't bad at all; at least they were able to fight Qianying and the others fairly well, not falling too quickly. But falling into Wen Yao's hands was pure bad luck for them.
Wen Yao didn't even care about his attack and had no intention of blocking it.
The Xingyi Sword flew out of his body, a line of cold light gathering as it pierced his neck, then splattered with blood. The man's sword swings continued, and when Wen Yao dodged past him and struck the next person, he was surprised by his own slowness, the sharp pain in his neck, and after stumbling a step, his head was torn apart.
This was the first time that Wen Yao actually used the Xingyi Sword after coming to Bianliang, and it was also the first time that Qianying and others saw the Xingyi sword technique that had become a legend in the martial arts world.
Wen Yao's movements were incredibly swift, seemingly merging with the starlight. She floated past everyone, leaving patches of blood everywhere she passed. She was killing, and killing with clean, efficient demeanor. Her internal energy surged like a whale swallowing the tide, her moves as precise and flawless as raindrops snapping spring branches. The cold light of the sword, like flowers and autumn lotuses, fell, crushing life after life, as it should. Gradually, Qianying and the others were unable to intervene.
No one here can beat Commander Wen.
Qianying thought in a daze.
I heard that the owner of Liuli Island broke through to a great realm not long ago. I wonder who is better now between him and Commander Wen.
After Wen Yao killed the last person on the roof, she turned around and saw the secret guards standing behind her like pillars.
"Someone just broke into Zhao Xuanxu's house." She drew her sword forward, and the blood dripping from the Xingyi Sword was shaken away by the internal force injected into it, splashing onto the ground and forming a string of red dots. "Why don't you go and take a look?"
Qianying shook her head: "The master is ill today, we are not allowed to enter the house, and anyone who violates this will be killed without mercy."
Wen Yao had only seen Zhao Xuanxu snap people's necks. He knew he had considerable kung fu and internal strength, but he didn't know the specifics. It might have been okay before, but today he wasn't feeling well. What if he was attacked by a sneak attack or something else went wrong?
She listened carefully and found that Zhao Xuanxu's room was very quiet and there was no sound at all.
Wen Yao tiptoed to the ground, walked to the circular arched wall, and peeked at Zhao Xuanxu's closed door. She had already pushed aside the Xingyi Sword and was about to call for help, but the next moment, the door in front of her was opened from the inside, and the strong smell of blood hit her face.
Zhao Xuanxu wore his outer robe, barefoot, his hair plastered to the side of his face. His fingers were stained with sticky blood, flowing along his veins and nails, pooling at his fingertips. Drops of it fell to the ground, forming scarlet flowers. Blood spread beneath his feet. The assassin who had sneaked in earlier was already dead, and his death was not a pretty one. A gaping hole had been torn open in his heart, the vibrant organs within vanished, and blood-red fragments were scattered around him.
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