Chapter 284

The moon set, the stars sank, the night was cold and windy; a fierce tiger‑dragon battle had already ended, but Ren Yingying's matter was not yet over. She felt as if this person were holding her aloft, soaring through clouds and mist, flying over one rooftop after another, leaping over tree after tree.

At this moment, if anyone looked up, they would surely see a huge black bird gliding across the sky, which also made Ren Yingying feel as if she were flying through the air, with Jinling City beneath her feet, her body and mind feeling greatly relaxed, experiencing an unprecedented freedom that swept over her, the earlier resentment and loss vanishing without a trace; she couldn't help but laugh, saying, 'Could it be that I myself don't know how to walk?'

The person said lightly, 'You two have impressive skill, actually able to keep up with me!'

Ren Yingying knew that the one who had intervened to save the person was Feng Yi, because changing one's appearance is easy, but altering one's bodily scent is hard.

But the content of his words was unexpected; her heart leapt, and then a vigorous, powerful voice came on the wind: 'Are you just going to leave like that?'

The voice seemed both far away and yet right nearby; as the sound faded, Ren Yingying felt a gentle breeze, her temples swaying, her sleeves fluttering. She was instantly startled, realizing a formidable person had appeared, and she turned her head.

Only a gray shadow shot up like a swan taking flight; Feng Yi thrust out a palm backward, just meeting the opponent's incoming palm!

Hearing a soft 'pū' sound, that person's robes billowed, beard and hair fluttering; his body became as light and graceful as a falling leaf, tumbling several zhang away before landing lightly atop a large tree.

By the moonlight, Ren Yingying saw that this person's face was lined with wrinkles, his beard and hair gray‑white and sparse, each strand countable; he was tall and thin, dressed entirely in gray, his whole figure resembling a withered bamboo stalk.

Feng Yi laughed loudly, 'Zhang Sanfeng founded his sect and shone through the ages; today I am fortunate to cross palms with a Supreme Ultimate master!'

His palm's yang‑hard force was completely neutralized by the opponent's yin‑soft internal energy; he realized this was Supreme Ultimate skill.

Ren Yingying, a martial‑arts expert with keen eyes and broad experience, instantly recognized that the old man was employing the 'Wild Horse Parts Mane' technique from Supreme Ultimate Fist; Feng Yi's fierce palm strike was guided and deflected by the old man's power, completely neutralized.

Although softness can overcome hardness, it still depends on one's cultivation level; thus his 'four ounces deflect a thousand catties' and 'borrow strength to strike strength' techniques, however marvelous, still caused him to tumble involuntarily.

Who is this old man? Ren Yingying searched her thoughts for an answer.

The old man sighed, 'Old Dao has made a fool of myself before you!'

At that very moment a gentle voice sounded: 'Sir, your divine skill is admirable!'

With a sound like silk tearing and air splitting, a green flash streaked three zhang and arrived before Feng Yi.

Feng Yi extended a hand as white as jade, pinching a green leaf between his index and middle fingers, and smiled, 'What a splendid Plucking‑Flower Finger!'

Ren Yingying's heart leapt; that green flash had come so swiftly, yet it was merely an ordinary leaf.

Although internal energy at the highest level can wound with flying flowers and plucked leaves, throwing a leaf more than three zhang away admits only one explanation: this person's internal energy is profoundly deep.

Ren Yingying then saw beside the gray‑clothed person a short, bald monk who had appeared at some point; he wore a great red kasaya, his eyebrows pure white, his cheekbones high, his cheeks gaunt, yet his face bore not a single wrinkle, making his age impossible to guess.

Ren Yingying silently marveled, 'These two's martial arts are each a match for Zuo Lengchan, yet I have never heard of them!'

The monk pressed his palms together: 'Layperson, your divine skill is profound; today I finally understand that beyond heaven there are more heavens, and above people there are higher people.'

Feng Yi released Ren Yingying, clasped his hands in salute, and said, 'The Young Forest Sect's supreme technique and the Martial Peak Sect's divine skill truly live up to their reputations; for now we part, but if fate allows we shall meet again.' With that he seized Ren Yingying and floated away.

Such was the renown of these two in the martial world; who would have thought they'd encounter such a setback with Feng Yi?

The gray‑clothed man laughed heartily, 'Master Feng Yi is lofty and proud, yet alas he is licentious by nature and his conduct is improper; otherwise he would be an excellent choice to quell the martial world's calamity!'

The monk pressed his palms together and smiled slightly: 'Dao brother, you omitted a sentence—this gentleman is truly a marvel of the present age.'

He must have already known our identities and purposes inside out!

……

Feng Yi once again lifted Ren Yingying and flew off, feeling no one was tailing them; after the battle, his spirit drained, he now sensed her body was exceedingly limp, a faint fragrant scent entering his nostrils, like the aroma of lilies.

Feng Yi, experienced in this matter, knew this faint fragrance was not medicinal but seemed naturally produced; it gave him a sense of long‑lost familiarity and closeness, making his mouth dry and his heart pound.

Feng Yi did not know how many women he had felt this with, yet now he experienced an irresistible longing that stirred a myriad of emotions within him.

Ren Yingying, seeing the two great masters, had expected a fierce battle, but the outcome was otherwise; she simply went along with it, thinking only, 'It turns out he still cares for me—he just fears being accused of breaking his promise, which is why he came in disguise!' Yingying closed her eyes, yet from the depths of her heart she felt herself enveloped in immense happiness.

No matter how many demands a woman may have of a man, when she herself is in trouble, having him bear the burden for her is the most basic requirement.

The wind whistled past her ears; she did not know how far Feng Yi had run. Finally, Ren Yingying felt the wind cease, opened her eyes, and saw surrounding flora intertwined, a stream murmuring as it flowed.

Only after Feng Yi set her down did his bones crackle; Ren Yingying suddenly reached out and grabbed his face.

That grab was swift beyond compare; while Feng Yi was circulating his energy to restore his body, by the time he realized, five fingers had already touched his cheeks. At that point there was no time to dodge—kicking or using internal energy to rebound would still have been possible.

But he feared hurting her, and in that hesitation he felt a chill on both cheeks—his mask had been pulled off. Ren Yingying gave a cold snort and said, 'You're playing mysterious; since you want to save me, are you still afraid people will say you break your word?'

Feng Yi replied coldly, 'Who said I'm doing this to save you?'

"Then you…"

Feng Yi said, 'Today's calamity you face is entirely my doing, therefore I have the duty to resolve it.'

How could he not know that Zuo Lengchan had seen Ren Yingying, and seeing his shameless bullying of the weak, he had no choice but to overturn a black‑clad man, seize his black cloak, and disguise himself to intervene?

After all, he had just promised not to interfere in the Five Peaks affair, then immediately regretted it—indeed he was somewhat in the wrong.

Although promises are such things, with Feng Yi it depends on whom they are made to; yet it is also embarrassing to go back on one's word before so many people.

Ren Yingying stared at him, a flicker of anger in her gaze: 'Is this your reason?'

Feng Yi said, 'Is this reason not enough?'

Ren Yingying felt both stirred and perplexed, unable to help asking, 'With such great ability, why not just kill Zuo Lengchan and settle it once and for all?'

Feng Yi laughed, 'Zuo Lengchan is not only extraordinarily scheming, he's also shameless and stubborn; contending with him is endlessly amusing, full of curious fascination. Whether you fall into his hands or you kill him, it would no longer be fun!'

After all, in this world it's not easy to have a villain one can use to dispel boredom and fatigue!

Having spoken, Feng Yi tossed aside his cloak, eyeing the clear, reflective stream as he bent to drink—unexpectedly a stone shot out, splashing water everywhere and drenching him from head to foot.

Feng Yi lifted his head, about to ask Ren Yingying how she had come to this, but saw her standing with her back to him, silent, her figure graceful, black hair flowing like a waterfall, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Feng Yi frowned slightly, looked up at the sky—the moon hung high, stars sparse—and murmured, 'Are you crying?' He thought nothing of it: 'This is not the Holy Maiden I know.'

"Do you really know me?" Ren Yingying suddenly turned, pearls of tears streaming forth, as if all the grievances of the past days had turned into tears that poured from her.

Feng Yi whispered, 'Everyone says the Demon Cult's Holy Maiden is cold‑hearted and ruthless, killing without hesitation, never showing any man the slightest affection—who would have thought she'd weep before a man?'

Ren Yingying listened, reflecting on her own life's deeds—everything matched what Feng Yi had said—but after meeting him she had completely changed, and she did not know why.

But hearing these words, Ren Yingying's heart grew even more conflicted; tears fell like rain, and she trembled as she said, 'In your eyes I am this sort of person—why then must you speak such irrelevant words?'

'Rather than this, I might as well let them kill me.' The more she spoke, the more anguished she felt, her rounded shoulders shuddering without cease.

Feng Yi heard these words, his heart tightened, yet he dared not reply.

At that time Feng Yi merely felt lonely; having a lovely companion to chat and laugh with was already a pleasure.

Furthermore, a sudden competitive spirit arose; he thought that in the original plot Ling Hu Chong could ask her name, and if he himself could not, wouldn't he be falling behind?

Yet I never expected things to have gone somewhat off track.

Actually, love descends suddenly; only those who have never truly loved would think it is a gradual emotional process.

Especially in ancient times, men and women, bound by strict propriety, when they felt mutual affection, many could know each other's hearts from just a few words; unlike today's social customs, where one must express love fully and thoroughly, otherwise it is not enough to show sincerity.

Ren Yingying's attitude toward Feng Yi is markedly different, showing that he carries significant weight in her heart, which is why she pays special attention to his words and deeds.

Unfortunately, Feng Yi is carefree and, thanks to his foresight, knows that Ren Yingying, though appearing to come from the Demonic Sect, is actually more restrained than those genteel young ladies, let alone the usual Jianghu youths.

In the original plot she clearly liked Linghu Chong; seeing her melancholy, Lüzhu Weng spread the news, causing the unorthodox sects to heavily promote Linghu Chong, yet she remained shy, frightening her subordinates into blurting out nonsense with wide eyes.

Even after mutually pledging affection with Linghu Chong, she would not allow him to embrace her.

Feng Yi mused that dealing with such a woman would surely be troublesome and bring no real advantage, so he felt neither liking nor affection for Ren Yingying, merely finding her beautiful as a painting, useful for dispelling boredom and fatigue.

In short, only a true gentleman like Linghu Chong could tolerate a demonic sect temptress like Ren Yingying.

Feng Yi thought so, but hearing her mention the word 'death', he could only comfort her: 'As the saying goes, "Yingying one water apart, gazing speechless," Miss, your name truly fits you, but you are in the prime of life—it's not good to speak lightly of life and death!' Ren Yingying gave him a cold glance, snorted, turned her head away, and said, 'Do not call me Miss!'

Feng Yi smiled and said, 'I can understand not letting me call you by your name, but why not let me call you Miss?'

Ren Yingying snorted and said, 'You don't know how many people you have called "Miss"; since you have called others that, don't call me that.'

Feng Yi stared for a moment, thinking, 'This little girl is indeed different!' He laughed lightly, stood up, and said, 'All right, don't call me Yingying, don't call me Miss; let's just call you "Young Miss" like everyone else—this title will be unique to me, Feng Yi.' He took a few steps, stood shoulder to shoulder with her, and gazed up at the sky.

Ren Yingying did not mind his suddenly standing beside her, and she too looked up at the night sky, seeing a crescent moon setting in the west, starlight brilliant and dense as dust and sand, unknown how much.

The two stood in silence for a long time before Ren Yingying softly asked, 'Who were those two just now?'

Feng Yi softly said, 'Nowadays, aside from the Shaolin abbot Master Fangzheng, there is probably no one else in the world who possesses the divine art of the Muscle/Tendon Changing Classic.'

Ren Yingying's heart skipped a beat: 'Master Fangzheng was the world's top expert before Eastern Uncle; he hasn't left the Shaolin Temple for years—what is he doing today?'

Ren Yingying's face changed, then she suddenly understood, nodding repeatedly: 'I see—Zuò Liángchán brought the leaders of the Five Peaks School together; how could Shaolin not know?'

So that gray‑clad old man must be the Wudang Daoist Chongxu.

As it turns out, Shaolin and Wudang had long heard of Feng Yi's affairs; not long ago Zuò Liángchán invited the Five Peaks School leaders to gather on Mount Song, then they all headed south together, and Master Fangzheng and Daoist Chongxu, having long known of Zuò Liángchán's schemes, could not rest easy and thus came along as well.

Especially, the Jianghu rumors say that Feng Yi's martial arts are exquisite and peerless under heaven; every martial artist hopes to see him once for delight.

No mistake, one poem, one launch, one internal, one containment, one presence—look over everything!

Especially, for those whose martial arts have reached the pinnacle, finding an opponent is all the harder, and they cannot help but feel joy at the sight of worthy prey.

And this is also why, even when sects are clearly opposed in righteousness and evil and stand as enemies, they sometimes cannot bear to deliver a lethal blow.

Because among masters, it is easiest to develop the feeling of heroes admiring heroes and good men cherishing good men; truly, anyone able to withstand even a single move of mine are rare heroes and good men under heaven, let alone opponents evenly matched with me.

Feng Yi nodded and said, 'Miss Ren, you are indeed clever!'

'Is that so?' Ren Yingying sighed, 'Compared to you, I am far inferior; you must know their intentions, which is why you do not speak much with them.'

Feng Yi fell silent, then exhaled lightly: 'These leaders of the orthodox sects, able to come see me, a wandering nobody, although it is for the Jianghu situation, they also value my martial prowess!'

Ren Yingying snorted and said, 'I also understand,'

They hope for peace in the Jianghu, yet fear that over‑interference would damage their sect's reputation, so they want to find someone to be their lackey—idle, to groom their horses and hold stirrups to boost their prestige; busy, to use as a shield against disaster and to sell their lives.

Feng Yi smiled faintly and said, 'This world is truly quite wonderful.'

Ren Yingying stared at Feng Yi with her large, autumn‑water eyes and asked, 'What's wonderful about it?'

Feng Yi laughed heartily, thinking, 'I haven't seen you hold such an opinion of Linghu Chong!' But then he thought, 'Indeed, Ren Yingying actively went to the Shaolin Temple to seek Master Fangzheng; with her clear‑cut gratitude and grudges, she would naturally not think of her benefactor so darkly.'

Having thought this, Feng Yi nodded and said, 'I mean that the Shaolin School is the foremost orthodox sect in the martial world, producing eminent monks, leading the martial world for a thousand years; Zhang Sanfeng in his later years was open‑minded and humble, the Wudang School greatly inherits his legacy; regardless of their actions, their intention is to hope for peace under heaven, and that is correct.'

Ren Yingying snorted, 'What's so great about the orthodox sects? The Liu Zhengfeng family, if not for you, would have been beaten to death by those orthodox sect people!'

These people consider themselves orthodox, yet they are ruthless and show no mercy toward those they deem heretical demons.

If they were truly fair and selfless, they ought to have eradicated Zuò Liángchán; this shows that not all in the orthodox camp are good, nor are all in the Demonic Sect evil.

Feng Yi shook his head and said, 'You greatly underestimate Zuò Liángchán.'

You think he is that easy to kill?

Nowadays, aside from Dongfang Bubai appearing in person and Feng Qingyang's return, even those who are confident they could defeat him are uncertain, let alone killing him!

Moreover, you are too extreme; even if there are some bad apples in Shaolin and Wudang, every sect has its unworthy members—while your Sun Moon Sect certainly has heroes, the vile and petty far outnumber the orthodox folk, and that is a fact!

These last few sentences stirred Ren Yingying's thoughts; she slumped onto a rock, after a while she whispered, 'So you despise our Sun Moon Divine Sect people!'

Seeing her eyes redden, a look of sorrow and grief, Feng Yi could not say what he felt, and chuckled: 'Where does this come from? Anyone from any sect has done good and bad; as for killing, I have slain more than anyone—what dislike could there be?'

Moreover, the so‑called peace of the Jianghu is merely many people's wishful thinking; because martial‑arts sects pass on their legacy, those who practice martial arts are far stronger than ordinary people, so true peace cannot exist.

Unless everyone is the same—no one knows martial arts; or if someone does, the day a single person can take on three or five foes is when a true master appears, and perhaps only then will the Jianghu know peace.

"Pfft—" Ren Yingying covered her mouth and laughed lightly, "If that's what a top master is, then I'd be the greatest fighter of all ages!"

Feng Yi saw her, behind the veil, her smile alluring and her beautiful eyes flashing with amusement, seeming both real and illusory; recalling their skin‑to‑skin contact just moments ago, warm and smooth, he could not help but feel his heart race and his mind wander.

Ren Yingying turned her head and saw him staring straight at her, making her shame impossible to contain, and she slapped him again.

This time Feng Yi casually seized her right wrist; Ren Yingying lashed out with her left hand, and Feng Yi grabbed her left wrist with his right hand.

Ren Yingying flared up in anger, her leg already lashing out from under her skirt; this angry strike was swift and fierce, and even though Feng Yi's divine skill is unmatched, he dared not let her kick that area, so he hurriedly held her tight.

In an instant, Ren Yingying's body grew hot, her strength vanished, and she softly cursed, 'Let go of me!'

Feng Yi saw her eyes unfocused, those big black eyes seeming veiled in a light mist; through her veil he saw her face full of bashfulness, hard to describe, and the heat in his heart rose, so he involuntarily kissed her forehead and eyes, wanting to kiss her cheeks but blocked by the veil, he tore it with his teeth, making a soft rip.

Ren Yingying had never experienced such a thing; her soul seemed to have left her body, as if she were drifting in a dream, until the veil was lifted did she realize it was real, and suddenly she felt her cherry lips captured in a kiss.

Feng Yi felt her lips tender and soft, and in a flash he lost himself, his heart and soul adrift—then came a sharp slap.

Feng Yi's left cheek burned with pain, golden stars flashing before his eyes; if not for his inner strength far surpassing hers, that palm would have knocked him out, and he immediately retreated several zhang.

All that could be seen was Ren Yingying's face flushed with anger, her eyes flashing a fierce light, as she cried out, 'You shameless! What do you take me for?' Her sorrow and indignation surged, and tears streamed down.

Feng Yi saw her displeased expression and gave an embarrassed grin: 'You are truly too beautiful, almost glowing; I just couldn't control myself!'

Ren Yingying looked at Feng Yi, disgust flashing in her eyes, and said coldly, 'You've used that line on who knows how many people, and now you try it on me?'

Feng Yi also replied somewhat grudgingly, 'You know it—I'm just a lecher.'

Ren Yingying said, 'Is that your justification for mistreating women?'

Feng Yi also felt anger in his heart: "You only kiss someone you like—how is that defiling?" But he also knew Ren Yingying was extremely reserved; apologizing now would be useless, and he snorted, "I just had a fight and sweated a lot—I need to take a good bath!" Saying that, he walked to the stream's edge and made motions to undo his clothes.

"Shameless!" Ren Yingying's face changed color, and she angrily said, "Surname Feng, you dare to do this—I, I, I will never see you again!"

Feng Yi saw her pretty face turn pale, her almond eyes flashing fire, and he chuckled, saying, "Indeed it's you—too bad I am just such a shameless scoundrel; if we don't meet, we don't meet—who cares?"

Suddenly his demeanor became desolate, he slowly walked out a few steps, and said, "I'm leaving; this place isn't peaceful—take good care of yourself."

"You!" Ren Yingying was greatly startled, and she urgently said, "You're really leaving?" Her eye sockets turned red, tears rolling, she didn't understand—could it be that she herself had done something wrong?

Feng Yi whispered, "Actually I know you've done nothing wrong; it's just that when I face a beautiful woman I can't quite control myself, and I shouldn't have appeared here!" Without turning back, his figure fluttered, like a wisp of green smoke passing by, and in an instant he was more than ten zhang away, vanishing into the night.

Ren Yingying, because she had issued orders for the Three Mountains and Five Peaks, everyone said she had an affair with Feng Yi, and she felt very wronged. Now Feng Yi treated her this way again, and she immediately squatted on the ground, covering her face with both hands, letting out a muffled sob.

But soon, the grievance accumulated in her heart like underground magma, and she burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs. Thinking of Feng Yi's decisive departure, she felt utterly miserable, with just one thought in her mind: "How hateful, boo hoo, he's so hateful—I want to kill him, I want to dig out his heart, scoop out his lungs..."

She was crying and hardening her resolve when a clear voice sounded in her ears: "Zuo Lengchan won't let you go—you're still crying here? And your father is imprisoned at the Plum Manor on Solitary Hill by West Lake!"

"What?" Ren Yingying hastily stopped her crying, and with a trembling voice she said, "How do you know?"

Although she couldn't see Feng Yi's person, she knew he was transmitting his voice; her own words, with his inner strength, he could also hear.

Feng Yi said, "This is the information Xiang Wentian inquired about—he was seized by your people and taken to Black Wood Cliff, and I happened to overhear it."

You and I part today, never to meet again; I am a businessman by nature—I won't do anything that brings no benefit. Let this be a perfect period to our affinity.

Ren Yingying's anger peaked, and she cursed, "Feng Yi, you're just a bastard!"

"Haha!"

Feng Yi's laughter came across, sounding very happy: "Miss, if a man meets you, he wouldn't want to be a bastard just once—would he still be a man? What fun would such a man have in life?"

"After growing up, striving for my ideals, I gradually neglected news of my parents and hometown; now my life is like acting—I speak insincere words, wear a hypocritical mask, and always use trivial achievements to deceive myself,

I always inexplicably feel a sense of emptiness, I always rely on a bit of alcohol's numbness to fall asleep; in that half-awake, half-asleep state, I seem to hear a sailor say, he says what's this little pain in wind and rain? At least we still have dreams!"

Ren Yingying heard his song drift over, her eye sockets reddened, and tears flowed again; the human skin mask she held in her hand was clenched into a ball by her palm, her teeth clenched tighter on her lips, biting out several tooth marks, bleeding, yet she felt nothing at all. (End of chapter)