“By his side, there are many blades.”
Ying Laixian once again dreamt of that day. The all-consuming flames threatened to scorch his very skin as he crawled across the burning pit, desperately seeking a shred of survival.
Whether the mire on the ground was water or blood, the two were hopelessly congealed together, packed deep beneath his fingernails. He crawled forward and ever forward, until he finally clutched a glimmer of hope.
The man stood clad in immaculate white robes, dazzling and eye-catching amidst the scorching tongues of fire. He seemed to notice Ying Laixian as well, and began taking steps toward him.
Ying Laixian’s vision blurred. In the man’s right hand, he dragged something along. At first it was indistinct, but as the man drew closer, the object was fully exposed to his field of vision.
It was a severed human head, its surface covered in countless faces—his father, his teacher, fellow Four Gentlemen members Ji Tingzhong, Zhong Xiyu, and Zuo Lingmu, alongside friends from his past.
The figure casually tossed the head right before him. The cranium instantly became a mangled mess of flesh and blood, spattering gore across Ying Laixian’s face.
The man planted a foot directly upon the back of his hand, yet Ying Laixian felt not a shred of physical pain.
The severed head rested directly facing him, every single face upon it hideously familiar.
He had witnessed the deaths of each and every one of these people. Every single one.
“Every time you escape, another one of them dies.” Ying Laixian heard those words echo beside his ear, spoken in his own voice.
A crushing wave of suffocation washed over him. Ying Laixian jolted awake, coughing violently as if his breath were being forcibly choked off.
And indeed, it was. Opening his eyes in the pitch-black room, a stark flash of white caught his eye. The intruder remained shrouded in a cloak, his face hidden from view, while a hand clamped ruthlessly around his throat.
The figure in white hoisted Ying Laixian straight up into the air by his neck, hurling him viciously onto the floor.
Choking back a mouthful of blood, Ying Laixian breathed heavily and deeply, fighting to suppress the murderous fury raging within his heart.
“You are still just as utterly useless.” The figure in white stepped before him, his voice raspy and indeterminate of gender. “If you weren’t capable of bringing me a measure of amusement, you would have perished alongside your parents long ago. You should be grateful that I gave you a chance to exact revenge upon me, yet you have disappointed me so. Right now, you are no different from a piece of trash.”
“Is that so?” Ying Laixian sneered, his eyes blazing with hatred for the figure in white.
This person was the mastermind behind the destruction of Changye Hall. While granting him the illusion of pursuing vengeance, the monster continually orchestrated assassination attempts against him.
To be denied both the relief of death and the freedom of life—that was the agonizing reality he endured.
“I will soon become the grand chess player ruling this entire world, and then I will kill you,” Ying Laixian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “You had better make sure the people you dispatch actually manage to kill me. Otherwise, none of us will find peace.”
“A year apart, and your temper has grown quite a bit.” The figure in white seized Ying Laixian by the hair, yanking his head upward. “How did you like my gift? Their blows must have been quite gentle.”
The so-called gift was nothing more than endless, unremitting assassination attempts.
Through countless brushes with death, Ying Laixian had long since understood that this demon would never soil its own hands to slay him, yet it derived endless pleasure from subjecting him to orchestrated hunts.
Twelve years twelve years since the annihilation of his home, and he had never once escaped this person’s field of vision. Just as the monster claimed, it merely wished to watch his pathetic struggles for survival.
“Not much of a gift, considering I’m still breathing.”
The figure in white forced Ying Laixian’s head back to compel him to meet his gaze. “Useless wretch. Continue proving through your actions that you still possess a chance to kill me. Otherwise, I shall never find a second diversion quite so entertaining.”
After the figure in white departed, Ying Laixian’s body continued to shudder uncontrollably. It was an instinctual physiological reaction forged through years of enduring the demon’s endless humiliation.
Yet despite dying countless times and exhausting every conceivable stratagem, he had never even managed to uncover his enemy’s true identity.
Only by completely seizing supreme power and gaining the authority to command the entire world would he ever stand a chance of eradicating this monster down to its roots.
He was profoundly grateful that Huayu Pavilion had unwittingly been pulled onto his ship, and that Tan Congye was now inextricably bound to his plans. Everything was marching steadily toward a favorable outcome.
Outside the inn, the sounds of combat grew steadily more intense. Brandishing a folding fan, Ying Laixian pushed open the door and stepped outside.
Beyond the threshold, Jiang Ni was locked in combat, trading blows with a group of armed intruders using her blade.
“Jade-like Gentleman, you kept us waiting quite long enough.” Dressed in plain, unadorned attire, the group wielded long, slender swords.
“Young Master, it’s people from the Three Lives Sect,” Jiang Ni warned.
Ying Laixian slapped the folding fan rhythmically against his palm. “The Three Lives Sect? A tiny, inconsequential sect dares to covet me?”
“We may be a minor sect, lacking the renown of the Jade-like Gentleman, but the entire pugilistic world knows by now that the clues to the Changye Hall treasure rest entirely upon your person. Rather than continuing to hide, you would do well to obediently hand over the clues, and we naturally won’t make things difficult for the Gentleman.”
“Fair enough.” A teasing sparkle of amusement danced within Ying Laixian’s cyan eyes.
The man’s greedy gaze raked up and down over Ying Laixian’s frame. This was, after all, the number one beauty under heaven. Word had it that the Jade-like Slim Snow practiced no martial arts and relied entirely on the female attendant at his side, rendering him incapable of escaping unscathed.
If he were to…
“But I refuse.” Ying Laixian’s voice was feather-light. As he snapped his folding fan open, Jiang Ni’s blade flashed forward in response.
“You think a single person can stop all of us?” The man sneered, clearly convinced the other party was hopelessly arrogant.
Ying Laixian’s fingers traced slowly, incrementally, along the jade-ribbed folding fan.
There were roughly a dozen adversaries in total, yet Jiang Ni single-handedly intercepted and blocked the majority of them.
The leader exchanged a glance with his subordinates, then vaulted directly toward Ying Laixian. Jiang Ni moved to intercept, but missed her mark.
“Forgive me, Jade-like Gentleman.”
Believing that someone utterly devoid of martial arts would pose no genuine challenge, the man lowered his sword to his waist, closing the distance step by unhurried step.
Ying Laixian lifted his gaze.
Snap.
With a crisp crack, he snapped the folding fan squarely in half.
As Ying Laixian unfolded the separated halves and drew them outward, the jade folding fan miraculously transformed into a long, gleaming silver blade.
“Oh? To think the Jade-like Gentleman carries a weapon after all. I only wonder if a scholar like you actually knows how to wield a sword.” The man offered a nonchalant, derisive jeer.
Caressing the blade, Ying Laixian replied, “Whether I know how or not, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Draw!
The longsword sprang forward like a soaring dragon, radiating an astonishing, formidable momentum. The howling gale and churning dust whipped up by its pressure forced the man to narrow his eyes against the onslaught.
“You actually” Before he could finish, Ying Laixian had already struck.
Startled by the overwhelming pressure, the man retreated half a step, but matters had progressed too far for him to turn back now.
The sword in his adversary’s grip possessed immense weight; every swing of his arms radiated striking lethality. Yet with a mere flick of his wrist, Ying Laixian effortlessly parried the heavy blows using his seemingly fragile jade sword.
Though the man pressed his attack with ferocious momentum, trading blows with Ying Laixian quickly proved agonizingly difficult.
“Your sword technique is utterly atrocious,” Ying Laixian mocked without even blinking. “And you dare display such trash in public.”
With a subtle exertion of his wrist, Ying Laixian shoved forward. The man instantly lost his footing, sent hurtling backward several meters by the surging wave of sword Qi.
He stared in utter disbelief at the youth before him. Jianghu rumors were utterly unreliable otherwise, how could this Jade-like Slim Snow possess such terrifying swordsmanship?
Judging by the sheer, boundless magnitude of that sword Qi, his cultivation had already reached an unfathomable realm.
“It has been quite a while since I last drew my blade,” Ying Laixian shook his head. “Today, you won’t be leaving alive.”
A spike of panic pierced the man’s heart. His hands shook uncontrollably upon the hilt as Ying Laixian effortlessly shattered his stance, flicking the blade upward to close in directly before him.
“You cannot”
Without a shred of hesitation, the longsword slashed cleanly across the man’s throat. Amidst the spray of arterial blood, Ying Laixian cast his gaze toward a distant white-clad figure standing off in the shadows.
“Jiang Ni, fall back.”
At her master’s command, Jiang Ni withdrew, her attire stained with blood whether her own or her enemies’ remained indistinguishable.
Ying Laixian stepped forward, casually hurling his longsword ahead of him. A tidal wave of crushing sword Qi slammed downward, directly blocking the path of any remaining enemies attempting to flee.
“Leave none alive.”
When Tan Congye arrived at the inn the following morning, the scene that greeted them was a charred, smoking ruin littered with debris.
Dismounting from his horse, Chen Wen inspected the structure, which had been burned beyond recognition. Strewn across its perimeter lay several lifeless corpses.
He flipped one of the bodies over to inspect it, noting the identical, razor-thin sword gashes slashed cleanly across every victim’s throat.
“It’s the Three Lives Sect. Every single one of them died from a single sword strike to the throat.”
“A single strike to the throat?” Tan Congye’s deep eyes darkened. For these men to belong to the Three Lives Sect and mobilize in such numbers, their target could only be one person.
The legendary Jade-like Slim Snow, who supposedly knew no martial arts.
With Ji Tingzhong absent, who could possibly be the master behind these lethal sword marks? It certainly couldn’t be Jiang Ni.
“By his side, there are many blades,” Tan Congye gritted his teeth.
“Yet anyone capable of producing such devastating results must rank among the absolute elite of the martial arts world. Just how many hidden cards does this Ying Laixian actually hold?”
“A cunning fox will never pass up any opportunity to molt and transform.” Staring at the glowing red embers still pulsing faintly amidst the ash, Tan Congye could almost picture how nonchalantly the youth must have set the fire.
“I’ve already dispatched men to investigate,” Chen Wen reported. “It shouldn’t be long before all intelligence regarding the Jade-like Slim Snow is delivered to us.”
“You’re still too naive,” Tan Congye countered. “Whatever information you manage to uncover will only be what the other party wants you to find—such as the so-called truth behind the destruction of Changye Hall.”
“City Lord, do you mean to say that Ying Laixian deliberately leaked the information about the truth of Changye Hall to us right from the beginning?” The more Chen Wen thought about it, the more his skin crawled. “How… how could he possibly have known we were investigating?”
This was precisely the riddle Tan Congye could not unravel. Whether it concerned intelligence regarding his own movements or the precise whereabouts of Yan Zhou at the time, Ying Laixian had been privy to every single detail.
It was as though the youth had planted informants in every corner of the world, receiving continuous, real-time reports.
“The Jade-like Slim Snow is truly worthy of his reputation among the Four Gentlemen,” Tan Congye said coldly. “Pass down the order: investigate everyone connected to him down to the last detail. I want every single piece of background information.”
“Understood. But City Lord, are we still heading to Quedu?”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Tan Congye’s gaze turned profound. “Once he enters Quedu, no matter how desperately those Jianghu factions wish to capture him, none of them will dare strike rashly.”
“Quedu has Old Master Wei, and moreover…”
“Wei Heng alone is enough to guarantee he remains safe from harm for the time being.”
“Then if we enter Quedu, won’t we be equally powerless against him?”
Tan Congye let out a cold laugh. “Remember that men die for wealth just as birds die for food. Wei Heng isn’t the invincible ruler of the world, and he isn’t the only Sword Saint alive.”
A cold shiver ran down Chen Wen’s spine. “If those other figures also set their sights on the Jade-like Slim Snow, I’m afraid even Old Master Wei won’t be able to protect him.”
Tan Congye offered no reply. He merely raised his eyes to gaze westward toward the direction of Quedu. “I have a premonition that he won’t linger long in Quedu. To dare toy with me you’d better brace yourself!”