Chapter 407: 164. One Step, One Kill (Happy New Year)

164. One Step, One Kill (Happy New Year)

As noon approached, the autumn sun overhead shone directly down upon the slightly cramped, dilapidated small courtyard below.

In the eyes of the crowd, the sunlight spilled across the fox mask on the face of this uninvited guest; the bronze material reflected a cold, metallic luster.

It was as if some primitive, blood-stained bronze artifact used for human sacrifices during the mythical, barbaric age had crossed a millennium to appear within the walls of this quaint, Gan-style courtyard.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

The young man was tall and thin, dressed in a dark blue Confucian robe, with a bronze fox mask covering his face.

It was a figure Rong Zhen knew well.

She could never forget him, even if it killed her. Since their parting at Mount Dagu, how many times had she woken up in the middle of the night from dreams, unable to shake the image of this indifferent yet arrogant fox-masked youth? It had even begun to turn into a nightmare, affecting the young girl's Dao heart.

"Which of you is looking for me?" he asked.

The crowd fell silent; no one answered.

The bronze fox-masked youth walked into the courtyard with composure. Under the gaze of the crowd, he suddenly stopped three steps behind the threshold of the courtyard gate and lowered his head to take a look.

Before him, there seemed to be a boundary line, like the Chu-Han border.

The bronze fox-masked youth stood at the edge of the Moon-Under-the-Pool Array. With one step to go, he turned his head left and right, seemingly examining the people in the courtyard and the various nodes of the array with great interest.

Rong Zhen narrowed her eyes.

Yan Zhang and Lian Qing's expressions were solemn, and they remained somewhat silent.

The bronze fox-masked youth pointed a finger at the small, Confucian-robed Daoist nun who was bound by ropes and unable to speak, standing beside a white-clad female scribe in the courtyard:

"I have a connection with this little one. Everyone, give me some face—let her go, and I can spare your dog lives today."

His tone was friendly and consultative, yet he spoke the most arrogant words.

The atmosphere in the courtyard remained silent for a while.

Yan Zhang stared at him for a moment, then suddenly sneered and shook his head:

"Is your brain broken? We didn't go looking for you, yet you delivered yourself to our doorstep. Now you dare to negotiate with us from the Astrological Bureau? What kind of dog barking is that?"

The bronze fox-masked youth kept his eyes fixed on Rong Zhen, ignoring him entirely.

Rong Zhen, who was standing in the center of the courtyard acting as the array, remained silent for a moment before suddenly turning to ask the little girl in the red jacket beside her:

"Who is he? Did you see his face clearly?"

From the moment the bronze fox-masked youth entered, Huang Xuan had been turning her head to look at his face, her small face dazed.

At this moment, as Rong Zhen asked, she stared straight into those clear, watery eyes.

Huang Xuan came back to her senses, glanced at her, and lowered her head: "I saw it clearly. I don't know him."

The bronze fox-masked youth glanced at the little girl in the red jacket.

Rong Zhen withdrew her gaze and asked coldly:

"What have you done to Commandant Ouyang?"

The bronze fox-masked youth immediately raised an eyebrow, though the bronze mask hid his expression.

Rong Zhen's voice was like ice:

"Attacking and killing a Commandant is a crime compounded. Today, we shall settle old and new crimes together."

Ouyang Rong nodded: "I like your official tone, my lady. After hearing it, I really feel I deserve to die ten thousand times."

He paused, then suddenly asked:

"Did you leave something behind last time, my lady? Tell me, should I be charged with a capital crime for this little trinket too? For example, the crime of indecency and corrupting public morals?"

The bronze fox-masked youth raised the crumpled, washed-white ball of thin purple fabric in his hand, gesturing to it.

He did not unfold it, but the mandarin ducks faintly visible on the thin fabric clearly indicated its intimate nature to the sharp-eyed crowd in the courtyard.

In the courtyard, Yan Zhang, Lian Qing, and the other Qi-refining cultivators of the Astrological Bureau, as well as Miao Si and Huang Xuan, all stared blankly at the ball of undergarments in the bronze fox-masked youth's palm.

The courtyard was strangely silent.

Even the arc-shaped Xin Dingjian hanging high above the array went unnoticed for a moment.

"How is that possible? What nonsense are you spouting..."

Yan Zhang's first reaction was disbelief. Impossible, absolutely impossible.

How could the intimate bodice of the cold, holy female scribe Rong Zhen be in the hands of this little thief? Besides, this red-and-purple style didn't match Rong Zhen's pure white, chaste attire at all.

Yan Zhang wanted to sneer and mock him to defend Rong Zhen's innocence, but the next moment, his peripheral vision caught the palace-dressed girl in the center of the courtyard—the high-mountain flower of the Astrological Bureau, usually as unreachable as an icy snow lotus. The skin on her previously cold, fair neck was suddenly flooded with a crimson blush, like red ink dropped into a cup of clear water.

Rong Zhen wore the Golden Four-Eyed Fierce Mask and did not move, so her specific expression could not be seen, but the skin on her earlobes and neck appeared white with a hint of red under the bright sun, exceptionally charming and vivid.

Everyone in the courtyard, except for Huang Xuan, who was slightly ignorant of worldly affairs, understood instantly.

Yan Zhang stood frozen like a wooden chicken, his eyes widened to the size of copper bells as something inside him rapidly collapsed.

The bronze fox-masked youth, damn him, continued to ask curiously:

"Why aren't you speaking? Hmm, is it not yours, my lady?

"Fine, then I'll ask others later. Not many people saw us at Mount Dagu that night; I'll surely find the owner."

He sighed with relief:

"It seems the crime of indecency and corrupting public morals can be avoided for now. It's a pity that for my honesty in returning lost property, the female scribe won't give a reward, nor will it offset the capital crime."

As he spoke, he shook his head, put away the crumpled purple bodice, and stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves.

Rong Zhen's neck and earlobes turned even redder; her exquisite, round earlobes, which wore no earrings, were crimson enough to drip.

At this moment, Yan Zhang's effeminate, handsome face swelled blood-red, looking like a withered, rotten eggplant, mottled with blue and purple.

"You... you... little thief, you are rampant!" he roared.

The bronze fox-masked youth, standing one step outside the array, suddenly turned his head and looked coldly at Yan Zhang.

At the same time, directly above the courtyard, the clear blue 【Arc】 ten feet above Rong Zhen's head suddenly moved.

Like the moon falling into a great river, like a comet striking the sun, it crashed into the dilapidated small courtyard.

The situation was urgent; the crowd was terrified, and Yan Zhang was so scared he bent over and hugged his head.

But immediately, the crowd, who feared the power of the Xin Dingjian to their bones, discovered that after the 【Arc】 entered the courtyard within ten feet of Rong Zhen's head, it quietly paused in mid-air.

It was as if it had fallen into a quagmire, unable to move forward.

The hazy mist radiating from beneath the palace-dressed girl's skirt became increasingly dense, permeating the courtyard like the water vapor rising in a bathroom during a bath.

In mid-air, the clear blue light around the 【Arc】 slowly contracted, weakening significantly.

The arc body trembled and vibrated slightly.

It wasn't that it wasn't sharp enough to cut through this array and the heads of the ants below.

It was that it had lost the supply of spiritual energy from its sword-wielder.

The connection between person and sword was isolated by the Moon-Under-the-Pool Array.

"Return" failed for the first time.

After Yan Zhang saw clearly, he laughed heartily:

"Little thief, the Xin Dingjian is nothing more than this. How stupid, actually daring to let the Xin Dingjian enter the array. Now you're trapped, aren't you? Without the Xin Dingjian, what will you use to kill?"

The crowd, like Yan Zhang, all breathed a sigh of relief.

Lian Qing sneered: "Stop talking nonsense. Activate the Earth Escape and take his head."

Rong Zhen, who had been lowering her head and not speaking from the beginning, quickly crushed a piece of red paper with one fist, took out a ball of literary energy, closed her eyes, and formed a seal, locking onto that person's aura.

Although the bronze fox-masked youth was only one step away from the Moon-Under-the-Pool, using Earth Escape to trap him could prevent him from running away.

Yan Zhang and the others were rubbing their hands, but they didn't expect that the bronze fox-masked youth at the courtyard gate showed no panic; instead, he shook his head lightly.

The next instant, the ball of invisible literary energy in Rong Zhen's hand suddenly exploded.

The 【Arc】 above everyone's heads suddenly burst with clear blue light, piercing through the hazy water mist.

It moved, like a fish splashing on the shore re-entering the water.

"Whoosh," it disappeared.

Without giving anyone half a breath of time, it appeared again, accompanied by a scream that resounded through the courtyard.

"Ah—!"

A white-clad Qi-refining cultivator guarding Miao Si was cut in half at the waist; the cross-section was neat, divided into two, and blood sprayed wildly.

The body bent at the waist and swayed to the ground.

Miao Si, who had been bound and gagged on the side, suddenly felt a sense of relief. She sat on the ground, opened her mouth wide, and looked around in a daze, as if she could speak again—the blockade had been lifted.

Although she was still in the place closest to Rong Zhen, just like Huang Xuan, she was layered with protection by Yan Zhang, Lian Qing, and other Astrological Bureau Qi-refining cultivators.

At this moment, inside and outside the courtyard, everyone was terrified.

"How does he still have spiritual energy?!" Lian Qing shrieked.

Yan Zhang suddenly reacted:

"Could it be driven by literary energy? This works too?" He hurriedly shouted to his companions on the left and right who were showing fear, stabilizing the morale: "Don't, don't be afraid, attack together. He has no spiritual energy now, only a strand of literary energy; he can't kill us all!"

But before he finished speaking, the bronze fox-masked youth at the courtyard gate reached into his right chest and pulled out a handful of blood-stained red leaves.

This bunch of red leaves looked very familiar to Huang Xuan and Miao Si. They looked closely and saw that the ink on the red leaves had disappeared, replaced by dashing, sloppy blood-written characters.

That's right, on the red leaves were lines of crooked characters written in fresh blood.

The bronze fox-masked youth gripped the handful of blood-scented red leaves tightly and walked calmly into the Moon-Under-the-Pool Array.

He walked toward Rong Zhen, Huang Xuan, and Miao Si in the very center.

Every time he passed a white-clad Qi-refining cultivator, he would pull a red leaf from his hand and throw it behind his shoulder.

The blood-stained red leaves danced in the air, simultaneously shattering into leaf ash inch by inch.

And as each blood-stained red leaf shattered into powder, the 【Arc】 appeared beside the corresponding white-clad Qi-refining cultivator.

Caught off guard.

The bronze fox-masked youth walked all the way, and heads fell to the ground behind him.

Miao Si looked up in a daze, watching the sloppy blood characters on the red leaves floating in the air before they shattered. She couldn't help but recite softly:

"Raising my head to gaze at the bright moon... lowering my head to think of my hometown...

"The moon sets, the crow cries, frost fills the sky... river maples, fishing fires, facing sorrowful sleep...

"Leaving Baidi in the morning, amidst colorful clouds... a thousand miles to Jiangling in one day..."

The stunning poetic chapters, full of literary energy and surprisingly smooth, came one after another. The Confucian-robed little Daoist nun, who was born with a love for ink and close to literary energy, became more and more dazed as she recited:

"Chu sky, a thousand miles of clear autumn, water follows the sky, autumn is boundless... at the sunset tower, amidst the sound of broken wild geese, a wanderer in Jiang Nan. I look at the Wu hook, patting the railings all over, no one understands the intention of climbing high..."

"Silver saddle illuminates the white horse, dashing like a shooting star... killing one person every ten steps, leaving no trace for a thousand miles... after the deed, brushing off clothes and leaving, hiding one's body and name... idly passing through Xiling to drink, taking off the sword and laying it across the knees!"

The poem spoke of ten steps, but the bronze fox-masked youth killed one person every step in the courtyard.

His pace was light and casual; as he passed each of the Qi Refining cultivators from the Directorate of Astronomy, their life force drained away, and they collapsed to the ground with a "thud."

Miaosi suddenly clutched her chest and laughed, giggling uncontrollably:

"Hahaha, what a poem, what a poem! You Sword-Bearer are interesting! Your literary Qi is like it costs nothing, and it can even serve as sword Qi—what kind of divine ability is this? Doesn't that mean great sword immortals will be great poets in the future? Hahahaha."

Rong Zhen turned her head: "Shut up!"

Miaosi, who was being gripped fiercely by Yan Zhang, didn't care that her small body was nearly being crushed; she danced and gestured, laughing heartily.

"I won't shut up! The banished immortal with peerless poetry and sword skills has come to save this immortal maiden. Wait for your deaths, you lot! You only know how to bully the weak. Now, try barking like dogs—*bleh, bleh, bleh*."

The little ink sprite tilted her head and made a face, sticking out her tongue.

Yan Zhang, situated within the formation of the Fangxiang mask, suddenly barked two words:

"Miaosi!"

The young Daoist nun in Confucian robes let out a miserable scream, her head tilted back as she vomited blood and fainted.

Yet, a smile still lingered at the corners of her mouth.

Being happy was all that mattered.

The youth with the bronze fox mask quickened his pace, breaking through layers of defense as he walked toward Rong Zhen.

He passed by Lian Qing.

The female scribe with the beauty mark, who was preparing to kneel and lower her head, didn't even have time to speak before her head was severed from her body—clean and swift.

Finally, the bronze fox-masked youth paused briefly beside Yan Zhang; he didn't listen to him speak, but merely patted Yan Zhang's shoulder lightly, then casually pushed over his headless corpse.

Yan Zhang's head had rolled to the feet of the bronze fox-masked youth at some unknown moment.

On the delicate and handsome face of the severed head, the eyes were wide open, filled with an expression of disbelief.

Even in death, he couldn't understand why, despite having his spiritual energy isolated and his cultivation base lost, the bronze fox-masked youth before him could still control the Xin Dingjian, why he still had so many peerless poetic verses, and why... he could touch the private little bellyband of the ice-mountain goddess, Female Scribe Rong Zhen.

He died with his eyes wide open, unable to rest in peace.

Inside the courtyard, a silent slaughter was nearing its end.

Finally, the bronze fox-masked youth, carrying an 【Arc】, walked up to the young girl in palace attire wearing a golden mask.

He held the last red leaf in his hand.

Rong Zhen widened her almond eyes to see that on this final red leaf, there was a faint line of blood-written characters that had not yet dried:

Appearing suddenly, the wild Kunlun, having read through all the spring colors of the human world.

Three million jade dragons fly up, stirring the heavens into a cold chill.

She slowly turned her head.

The two people, both wearing masks, exchanged a glance.

Without waiting for Ouyang Rong to speak, Rong Zhen suddenly removed her fierce golden mask; her beautiful hair was already soaked, with a few strands scattered before her dark, lacquer-like eyes. She stared fixedly at his face:

"It's just death. Don't hide and skulk—take off your mask and let this palace see you once. Just this once."

The bronze fox-masked youth ignored her in silence, turning his head to glance at the young Daoist nun in Confucian robes who was lying on the ground nearby, severely injured and unconscious.

The pair of eyes revealed by his fox mask narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, his mood seeming extremely displeased.

Rong Zhen gave a sorrowful smile, closed her eyes, and held her head high like a swan. She did not beg for mercy, nor did she bow her head in repentance; her closed-eyed, pretty face faced directly toward that 【Arc】 in mid-air.

The bronze fox-masked youth watched the young girl in palace attire silently as she stretched out her neck to receive the execution.

The clear blue light of the 【Arc】 suddenly intensified, closing in on the young girl's pretty face; the sword Qi severed the black, wet hair before her tightly closed eyes, pointing directly at the tip of her nose.

Just at this moment, outside the courtyard wall, a "crack" sound suddenly rang out.

The bronze fox-masked youth turned his head instantly.

Inside the carriage at the courtyard entrance, an unruly long sword that had lost the suppression of the Xin Dingjian rushed out of the sword case—a flash of snow-white, bursting with brilliance!

In the ordinary alleys, a sword crossed the sky, its aura surging to the stars.

Thank you for your company; in the new year, we set off once again! or2

(End of chapter)