Chapter 180
As Feng Yi's last words left his mouth, Xiao Yuanshan's resolve was instantly seized, his sharp, sword-like gaze turning dim and lifeless.
Normally, with Xiao Yuanshan's indignant and resentful nature, he would have been unmoved by Feng Yi's words. But today, having been forced to recognize Qiao Feng, seeing his son learn that his foster parents and master were killed by his own hand, his heroic spirit vanished instantly, leaving him dazed as if bereaved.
A trace of compassion stirred in Xiao Yuanshan's heart, prompting him to follow Qiao Feng all the way back, fearing the latter might not comprehend. This was secondary; more fatal was Feng Yi's final sentence, which struck directly at Xiao Yuanshan's inner malady.
He loved his wife deeply, yet failed in his duty as a father to his son; afterward, when he meets his wife in the underworld, he will indeed feel guilty.
The more Xiao Yuanshan thought about it, the more unpleasant it became, and he shouted: "They deserve to die; they stole my familial bliss and never told Qiao Feng the truth, seeking to turn my son into a Han Chinese like Xuanci and the others—all of whom deserve death!"
"Stole your familial bliss?" Feng Yi sneered: "Even if we take your word for it, you uncovered the truth over twenty years ago, even knowing Xuanci's secret deeds; why didn't you kill them early, inform Qiao Feng of the truth, and raise your son yourself?"
Why wait until Qiao Feng's origins are exposed and the whole world turns against him before killing them? That makes no sense, and the conduct is improper.
Xiao Yuanshan forced himself to say: "I didn't think that much back then."
"Not thought that much?" Feng Yi shook his head: "That line might fool your son, but..."
Though you resemble Qiao Feng in appearance, he has no beard, yet to frame him you did not hesitate to shave off your full beard, allowing the Shaolin monks to see this face clearly and deem Qiao Feng the murderer who killed Xuanku!
Your aim is merely to make Qiao Feng feel wronged and to provoke the hostility of Central Plains Han toward him, so that he may experience the resentment you once felt when framed, and likewise become a hollow-wielding martial artist who disregards right and wrong, obsessed solely with revenge.
Speaking of today, I have no grudge against you; why then do you seek me out? Isn't it because, in your eyes, anyone who knows the identity of the chief elder deserves to die?
Because you believe the time is not yet ripe to expose his identity, you wait for Shaolin Temple, in its role as host, to convene the martial arts assembly when heroes from all under heaven gather, then reveal Xuanci's identity and shameful deeds—this is killing to excise the heart!
Not only must you destroy Xuanci, but also this thousand-year-old monastery and the Shaolin Temple, the pinnacle of martial arts; only then would your vengeance be considered complete!
Xiao Yuanshan's gaze grew vacant, unsure whether he was moved or his innermost thoughts had been laid bare; suddenly he burst into loud laughter, chuckling a few times, then his face flushed purple as he shouted harshly: "Kid, who do you think you are? What I want to do is none of your business!"
Feng Yi gave a slight smile and said: "Do you know why I'm telling you all this?"
Xiao Yuanshan stared, then snorted coldly: "Who cares about your nonsense!"
As Feng Yi walked toward him, he spoke unhurriedly: "There's a saying, 'different flowers enter different eyes.' Many notions of right and wrong are merely each person's subjective view; what truly can be judged is a very harsh reality, and it comes down to the size of one's fist.
You surpass the couple Qiao Sanhuai in ability, so they could not even bring themselves to explain to Qiao Feng, knowing he is not their biological son, while withholding the truth from him.
But you cannot kill me, so my words, whether you like to hear them or not, cannot be stopped.
Normally, someone like you—twisted in nature, old, weak, sickly, and crippled—especially after expending considerable vital energy in your fight with Qiao Feng, I wouldn't bother with you.
Yet you fail to recognize the hint, instead putting on an air of arrogance before me; Feng Yi today seeks nothing else, but ought to let you know not to think that the Central Plains lacks anyone who can match you, this frontier hero! Having spoken, he threw a punch.
Xiao Yuanshan's martial prowess was outstanding; thirty years ago he already dominated and rarely met an equal. Being thus scolded and looked down upon by Feng Yi was the first time in his life; his throat made a gurgling sound as he was about to retort.
But before the words could leave his lips, Feng Yi had already launched a punch that seemed both light and heavy, both fast and slow, making it impossible to discern its force, speed, or direction.
Xiao Yuanshan's complexion shifted slightly; he dared not meet it head-on, retreating several zhang, and wondered inwardly: "Just where does this person come from, to be so formidable?"
In the flash of a thought, Feng Yi sent another punch forth, a mighty gale,
Xiao Yuanshan gave a long laugh: "Good, today we shall decide life and death!" His five fingers curled into a dragon-claw shape, and he swiftly grabbed for the opponent's wrist.
His martial foundation was already strong, and over these thirty years he has diligently practiced Shaolin's supreme techniques; even a plain, unremarkable move can burst forth with great brilliance in his hands.
This dragon-claw strike was not only extremely precise in its grasp but also powerful; with a few inches still between them, Feng Yi felt a slight numbness in his wrist, swiftly flicked his hand outward, and with a reverse half-hook, half-palm push, he thrust it out.
Xiao Yuanshan knew this grab could not possibly succeed, and that he had a follow-up move concealed; yet he felt his grasp not landing in empty space but rather as if striking a ball of cotton, and Feng Yi, following the momentum, pushed forward with the motion.
This strike's force was half fist, half palm—peculiarly strange; even though Xiao Yuanshan understood the Subduing Dragon Twenty-Eight Palms quite well, he was greatly startled, and he met it with both palms.
In this exchange, both exerted their full strength; before fist and palm met, the immense forces encountered each other, yet the power did not travel straight but twisted and turned, rubbing together, emitting a sharp hissing sound.
The aftershock transmitted to Feng Yi's body, causing him only a slight sway as he planted his stance; Xiao Yuanshan felt his chest flare hot, involuntarily swaying back two steps, and cried: "This is not the Subduing Dragon Twenty-Eight Palms!"
Feng Yi laughed: "This is 'Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use.' You say it isn't the Subduing Dragon Palm—then what is it?"
Xiao Yuanshan recognized this as a high-level technique from the Subduing Dragon Twenty-Eight Palms, yet the application of force differed from what he knew, so he raised a question; but Feng Yi's remark left him unable to answer.
Although the Subduing Dragon Eighteen Palms were derived by Qiao Feng simplifying the twenty-eight, Xu Zhu incorporated the essence of the Xiao Yao school, making them even more powerful; at this time the Xiao Yao sect, like Feng Yi, is obscure, so Xiao Yuanshan naturally does not know, which also makes his heart tighten.
Facing Feng Yi, even if he were full of energy, he might not prevail; how could he possibly resist now? He immediately felt the urge to retreat.
But Feng Yi today intended to deal with Xiao Yuanshan; a gleam flashed in his eyes, his body swayed, he drew with his left hand, and struck out with his right hand like the wind.
This grasp was exquisitely superb, covering several zhang; Xiao Yuanshan could not dodge, and a punch like a flood dragon bursting from its hole shot straight for Feng Yi's face—this is a necessary counter to an attack.
Feng Yi likewise did not meet him head-on; he turned his body, delivering a continuous stream of punches, the technique subtle and peerlessly swift—this is the "Shadowless Divine Fist."
Xiao Yuanshan saw that though his fist technique was swift, it also possessed a great supple quality; the fist power condensed without dispersing, dense and close, like a soft stone wall, leaving nowhere to hide—truly it is as if the spirit leads the fist, inhaling and exhaling in measure.
Especially the cleverness of force, the agility of movement, the marvel of transforming power, and the speed of adaptation—none of these are common sights.
Yet Xiao Yuanshan once single-handedly faced twenty-one elite martial artists of the Central Plains, and having studied various Shaolin supreme techniques, he also possesses formidable skill; his advances and retreats are sudden, at times his opening move is the invincible "Prajna Palm Method," the next a yin-leaning "Demonsubduing Palm Method,"
Sometimes his hands become blades, executing the "Clear Sky Thunderbolt" of the Burning Wood Sword Method; sometimes a single hand turns into a finger, performing the "One Finger Yellow Millet" from the Formless Calamity Finger.
In an instant they exchanged over thirty moves; Feng Yi laughed loudly: "Your thirty years spent in the Sutra Pavilion truly have not been wasted; if the Shaolin high monks knew that their divine arts and supreme techniques need to be in your hands to be displayed to the fullest, I wonder what they would feel!"
Xiao Yuanshan's heart sank greatly; he deeply knew his own background was nothing special, yet even in the midst of their bitter struggle, this brat could still speak calmly—could he really be some immortal descended to the mortal realm?
Yet he still burst into loud laughter: "Shaolin Temple has falsely claimed supremacy for years; I will sooner or later fight them to the death, to see whether the Shaolin school, famed across the world, truly possesses genuine substance, and also to verify whether their supreme techniques are truly formidable—this is why I borrowed the secret manuals."
Moreover, they falsely accused me of going to Shaolin to seize the scriptures, causing my family's ruin and death; how could I merely bear their name in vain? Even if they know it, the jianghu has its own sayings!
Feng Yi laughed heartily: "Very well, I've heard Shaolin Temple possesses seventy-two supreme techniques; I can learn them all at once, which is also a joy in life!"
Upon hearing this, Xiao Yuanshan resentfully fell silent; he truly does not know all seventy-two supreme techniques, having only cultivated a portion.
While they spoke, their hands and feet unleashed unceasing techniques; at this moment Xiao Yuanshan felt Feng Yi's fist approaching, and he immediately stepped back one step, joined his palms, and exerted all his strength to block.
With a "duo" sound, both shuddered simultaneously.
How fast Feng Yi's hand is—his feet seem to tread on emptiness, now south, now north, now east, now west; as one punch is launched, another follows, the preceding force still strong while the succeeding arrives, layer upon layer, like surging waves and terrifying torrents.
This is the ancient tomb sect's lightness skill combined with his arduous training beneath a waterfall, producing the "Shadowless Divine Fist."
Xiao Yuanshan immediately waved both palms, circulating his divine power, thrusting left and surging right; he sought to break through Feng Yi's wall of qi, whereby the opponent would surely suffer a sharp setback, after which he could launch a counterattack and have a chance of victory.
Who would have thought Feng Yi's fist wind is heavy and condensed, its residual force endless, his body advancing and retreating like lightning, as if many attackers from all directions struck him simultaneously, his inner energy heavy, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, his movements like heavenly demon transformations, formless and traceless.
Xiao Xuanshan facing such divine skill could only defend, yet he could not help but become flushed and breathless, his heart racing incessantly, let alone launch a counterattack.
Although Xiao Yuanshan's martial arts are strong, his study of Shaolin arts conflicts greatly with his nature; he appears overbearing yet lacks smoothness.
Feng Yi previously cultivated Divine Illumination Skill and the Blood Saber Classic to the point of pure perfection, unifying righteous and aberrant, his inner energy unique; later he mastered the Nine Yin Divine Art, peerless through the ages.
Although the power of Divine Illumination Skill has now become yesterday's wilted flower, the benefits it brings him remain: extraordinary perception, penetrating intellect, and greatly enhanced eyesight.
Therefore, when Feng Yi exchanged a few moves with Xiao Yuanshan, he felt his qi unsteady; his martial arts seemed to have reached the pinnacle, flawless, yet his internal power had not attained the supreme state of peak perfection and yin-yang unity, so practicing Shaolin martial arts harmed his body and prevented his martial arts from achieving perfect fluency.
Feng Yi's "Divine Illumination Skill" had once reached the state of pure yang furnace fire; with this supreme, thick internal force, learning any martial art would be mastered instantly.
Although the internal energy of the Divine Illumination Skill and the Blood Saber Classic had long been exhausted, he nevertheless refined the Nine Yin Divine Art anew; his true qi flowed endlessly, and whenever he thought of the Divine Illumination Skill or Blood Saber Classic, their qi would spontaneously arise, yet he could not achieve perfect merit.
Nevertheless, with only the Nine Yin True Classic, Shadowless Divine Fist, and Subduing Dragon Eighteen Palms, Feng Yi was already virtually invincible under heaven. Therefore, among the masters of the Tianlong world, aside from the Sweeping Monk whom he still wary of, the rest were merely feeble-minded old, weak, sick, and disabled, none of whom he regarded.
At this moment, fighting Xiao Yuanshan was actually more about testing each other's insight; they fought back and forth, Feng Yi leaping and falling, his fist intent expansive, strange and abrupt, freely released, his stamina growing with the battle, while Xiao Yuanshan's hands went limp and his heart raced, unable to retaliate, continually retreating.
With the one waning and the other waxing, Feng Yi bellowed a loud "Strike!"
Shouted with supreme internal force, his tongue rang like spring thunder, shaking mountains and valleys; although Xiao Yuanshan's internal energy was profound, he also felt dizzy and nauseous.
Feng Yi reached out and seized his left wrist, then swept his right palm horizontally; with a "peng" sound, it struck squarely at his waist and ribs.
Xiao Yuanshan was sent flying several zhang, his viscera seeming to overturn; before he could change posture and fall, he heard Feng Yi shout, "This palm is for Qiao Feng!"
Xiao Yuanshan flew into a rage, thrusting both palms like a soaring dragon—one aimed at Feng Yi's face, the other guarding his body—but unexpectedly Feng Yi flicked his hand, swift as lightning, seized his left hand again, and with a "pa" sound struck his cheek, saying, "This slap is for Qiao Sanhuai and his wife!"
Xiao Yuanshan's vision went dark, blood poured from his mouth and nose, the blood tinged white, and several of his teeth fell out.
Yet he too was a master; as he landed, he shouted loudly and unleashed two "Burning Wood Sword" strikes toward Feng Yi.
Feng Yi swayed, like a gust of wind, and vanished from Xiao Yuanshan's sight.
At that moment Xiao Yuanshan's head swam and his eyes saw stars; unaware, Feng Yi had already reached his side, his fist like a venomous bee's sting striking his left ribs, and he shouted, "This punch is for Xuanku!"
Xiao Yuanshan resembled a broken kite, tracing a black shadow in the air before crashing into the cliff wall; suddenly a gray shadow flashed through the air, gently catching him and setting him down, revealing a tall, sturdy figure with a stern gaze—it was Qiao Feng.
Feng Yi had long known Qiao Feng had arrived, so those words were meant for his ears.
Seeing his son witness his disgraceful beating, Xiao Yuanshan felt both shame and anger; he drew a deep breath, his brows shot up, and cried, "Feng'er, don't interfere—skill inferior means only death; I only regret having exhausted my internal energy today, leading to this defeat!"
Qiao Feng saw his father's face covered in blood, and his heart was filled with mixed emotions.
Because it was inconvenient for him to do, Feng Yi did it in his stead; yet this was his birth father, beaten by Feng Yi to this state, which also made Qiao Feng feel a sourness in his eyes and nose; he reached out his right hand and placed it on his father's back. Xiao Yuanshan felt a thick internal force enter his body, his mind slightly calmed. Qiao Feng said, "Brother Feng, your divine skill is unrivaled; I, Xiao, admire it."
Feng Yi heard him admit his surname Xiao, understood he was asking him to cease, smiled and said, "Unrivaled martial arts? Just talk." He turned his head to gaze northward and let out a long sigh.
Xiao Xuanshan and Xiao Feng exchanged a glance, and Xiao Feng couldn't help asking, "Could there still be a master in Shaolin Temple whom you cannot match?"
Both knew that lay in the direction of Shaoshi Mountain, and Xiao Yuanshan's heart suddenly jolted.
Feng Yi smiled, turned, and walked away.
Xiao Yuanshan said, "Young man, I am not convinced of my defeat today; please attend the heroes' gathering Shaolin Temple will hold and meet me there!"
Feng Yi looked back at him: "Xiao Yuanshan, don't be unwilling to accept defeat; even if you had not fought Qiao Feng today, you would still not be my opponent."
Xiao Yuanshan sneered, "Today you have won, say what you will; I, Xiao, will not die today, and someday I will surely avenge this shame!"
Feng Yi laughed heartily, "Then I await your instruction."
He stepped out, covering several zhang in a single stride, yet he heard Qiao Feng call, "Brother Feng, please pause your steps!"
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Feng Yi halted: "What? Brother Xiao, do you want to avenge your father?"
Xiao Feng said, "How dare I? I am still grateful and haven't had time to repay!"
Xiao Yuanshan's right cheek was already black and purple, his eyes fixed tightly on his son, gritting his teeth, he spat out word by word: "What did you say?"
Qiao Feng felt a surge of hot blood rush to his crown, his eyes wide open, unblinking, locked onto him, and he shouted, "The foster father and mother raised me with kindness; Master Xuanku taught me martial arts through ten years of cold and heat; they ought not to die, nor should they be killed by you!"
But you are my father, I am your son; how a father treats his son is natural and right. I cannot avenge, yet if someone strikes you three palms in my stead, I, the child, would still be endlessly grateful!
Xiao Yuanshan stared, then suddenly exhaled a long breath and sighed, "Good, good, good, indeed a worthy son of mine, Xiao Yuanshan!"
Seeing his father's disheveled, weary expression, Xiao Feng turned around; Feng Yi's demeanor remained calm as he said, "Brother Feng, you just said my father is ill; you probably mean not his mental state, right?"
Xiao Yuanshan also started; he had thought Feng Yi's remark about his illness referred to his conduct, but hearing his son say that, he was even more startled, for his ailment ought not to be known by others.
Yet hearing Feng Yi clap three times and laugh heartily, "Brother Xiao, you are indeed a perceptive man. Your father's illness is no light matter; otherwise how could he have killed your foster parents and master and framed you?"
Xiao Yuanshan raised his brows and sneered, "Alarmist talk!"
Feng Yi leisurely said, "Xiao Yuanshan, your martial arts are unmatched in the world; if you diligently train, with your intelligence and talent, becoming a grandmaster is not difficult. It is laughable that you instead practice Shaolin martial arts."
Xiao Yuanshan replied, "What's wrong with practicing Shaolin martial arts? Do martial arts also distinguish Han from Hu? Don't forget, the old monk Bodhidharma was also a Hu person."
Feng Yi lightly chuckled, "You were originally a broad-minded, heroic gentleman, but misfortune filled you with hatred and made your temperament obstinate."
Martial arts broadly divide into Buddhist, Daoist, Confucian, and Demonic paths, yet they all aim to enlighten the world, their methods differing in name only: Buddhism is 'to ferry', Daoism 'to guide', Confucianism 'to comprehend', Demonic 'to mediate'; though their outward aspects differ, their meaning is the same.
In short, it is one sentence: go with heavenly opportunity, meet with fortuitous coincidence, and let the talismans match.
Daoism seeks a state of no hindrance, no obstruction, leading to no distinction; Buddhism emphasizes no attachment, no clinging, to attain utter emptiness; Confucianism stresses awakening, which is like waking from a great dream, namely reflecting on the mind to realize the oneness of all things.
The Demonic path stresses indulgence of the seven emotions and six desires, yet indulgence is not the goal; rather it is to be able to release and restrain, so that knowing the six desires can balance the seven emotions, thereby achieving the state where inner demons reside within but nothing can ride upon them.
Thus someone who mixes Buddhist, Daoist, Confucian, and Demonic martial arts in one body encounters no hindrance at all, for this is the principle that when martial arts reach the highest pinnacle, different paths converge.
It is laughable that you do not realize that the essence of this principle, the internal energy you cultivate is not the supreme martial art, nor have you reached the highest realm, yet you go stealing Shaolin martial arts.
In your mind you plot how to exterminate them, hatred never forgotten, yet you keep waiting for what you deem the proper moment,
your thoughts have long disturbed your mind; over time, your heart becomes knotted and uneasy, your internal cultivation unable to bear the martial arts you practice, causing your body to indeed fall ill, and within a few years you will inevitably go mad, suffer deviation, and die.
Xiao Yuanshan at first paid it no heed, but later his gaze grew hazy, his face turned pale; he involuntarily lifted his head to look at the bright moon, its clear light shining coldly on his face, a breeze blowing, he felt a chill on his back—indeed he had sweated through his heavy garments.
Xiao Feng glanced at his father, seeing him like a sword sunk in the abyss, his sharpness exhausted; Feng Yi's words were clearly true, so he immediately clasped his fists and bowed, saying, "Brother Feng, your words are profoundly sound; please guide my father out of confusion!"
What Feng Yi has learned are the supreme quintessence of martial arts; he has also discussed martial arts many times with several grandmasters in the Condor Heroes world, and his heart is broad and bright, his understanding of the ultimate truth of martial arts unmatched under heaven, so he said, "All divine skills arise from mind-intent. Your father's predicament stems from his thoughts conflicting with his true nature; practicing with a disturbed mind harms him in turn—this is the principle of slaying a thousand foes while harming oneself half as much."
Thus saving him may be said to be hard or easy; it relies on oneself!
Xiao Feng pondered, while Xiao Yuanshan turned his head and gave Feng Yi a deep look, then snorted, "You mean I should give up revenge and become a great benevolent who sweeps the ground, fearing to harm even ants?"
Feng Yi heard his mockery, shook his head, and said, "You truly suffer from obstructive views. Know that Buddhism also has the Diamond Subjugation of Demons; how could that be merely forsaking revenge?"
The Xiao father and son were both stunned.
Feng Yi said, "No matter how deep the hatred, it must not be clung to."
You are clearly practicing martial arts, yet every day you think only of how to vent your hatred in revenge; even with superior martial arts, it becomes inferior.
Because martial arts stress the union of mind and will, will and spirit; the martial arts one cultivates will inevitably affect the mind and spirit!
A true master, what they value is simply the two words "carefree".
Simply put, if you run into your enemy, you take revenge on the spot; if you don't meet them, you don't even think about it and can let it go!
Just like Xiao Feng, if he doesn't know his enemy, he can give up revenge; but if he meets his enemy, he'll have to kill you!
This is the magnanimity of a man who can take up and let go, yet it is not that he is unfeeling and unjust!
Xiao Yuanshan's body shuddered, a blazing light shone in his eyes, his lips trembled, he wanted to speak but stopped, unable to avoid admitting that although Feng Yi was young, he already bore the demeanor of a grand master, his words being the Dao.
Feng Yi, however, no longer paid him any mind, smiling at Xiao Feng: "Brother Xiao, things have come to this point; I won't play dumb anymore."
The leader is none other than the Shaolin abbot Xuanci that A Zhu guessed at, while the one who previously spread false news for him was his close friend Murong Bo; I won't go around broadcasting this. Farewell!
"Murong Bo?" Xiao Yuanshan exclaimed in shock: "Why..."
Feng Yi suddenly turned, as if not touching the ground, disappearing from the sight of the Xiao father and son.
Moonlight reflected on the faces of the Xiao father and son, one extremely joyful, as if full of confidence in everything.
But moonlight also fell between Xiao Feng's tightly knit brows, casting a hint of shadow.
Murong Bo!
He is the elder who adopted A Zhu!
Murong Bo is dead; should we go look for Murong Fu instead?
But what will the future be like?
Could this be the price of revenge?
……
In Feng Yi's view, the so-called Heavenly Dragon experts, aside from the Sweeping Monk, none surpass in realm the Five Greats of the Central Plains in Legend of the Condor Heroes.
Even though Ouyang Feng was notorious for his venom, Wang Zhongyang broke his years of painstakingly cultivated Toad Technique with a single finger; later, knowing he had been scared off, Wang Zhongyang died that very night, yet he never said he would go to the Quanzhen Sect for revenge.
After all, the Seven Masters of Quanzhen rarely gather together, each spreading the Dao in different places; if Ouyang Feng constantly thought of revenge, he could easily overthrow the Quanzhen Sect.
Typical case of not meeting them—you just let it be.
But if you do meet them, you strike without mercy, no unnecessary detours.
Such effortless carefree bearing fully displays the demeanor of a grand master.
Hong Qigong was the same—once Ouyang Feng left him with his martial arts utterly gone and his life barely hanging on, he never even thought about how to get revenge.
Feng Yi, this young man, once sneaked alone into the Mongol camp, was struck in the back by the Golden Wheel Dharma King's golden wheel, nearly losing his life. The thought of revenge merely flashed in his mind; after healing his wounds, he did not deliberately seek out his opponent to figure out how to deal with him.
However, Xiao Yuanshan, Murong Bo, and the so-called Three Elders of Xiao Yao are all tangled in grudges and emotions. Sitting on a treasure trove of martial arts, none of them have truly mastered what they learned or brought it to full play, so they can only bully characters like Murong Fu and below.
Only Qiao Feng is a true martial arts genius; with his experienced trials and unchanging steadfast heart, if he could live to reach his peak at forty or fifty, his achievements would be limitless, which is why Feng Yi intends to give him guidance.
As for directly speaking Murong Bo's name, it is also a small good deed Feng Yi does for the ill-fated heroine A Zhu.
Since she has guessed it, regardless of whether Qiao Feng hears it in the inn, as for her, the question is whether she will speak up voluntarily.
If she speaks, she will be sorry to the Murong family that raised her.
If she doesn't speak, she will be sorry to her beloved elder brother Qiao.
Feng Yi is always so understanding; after today's battle with Xiao Yuanshan, he feels their martial arts are nothing special, and he has fewer scruples.
Then, let's just do a good deed.
Of course, in some people's eyes, that makes him a bad person.
As for that, Feng Yi doesn't care at all!
(End of chapter)
End of Chapter
