Chapter 29

Feng Yi (Wind Escape). Also the phrase "Dongting Double Righteousness" appears later; it is a nickname or epithet for a pair of brothers. Additionally, the words "inn", "chair", and "corpse" are generic terms.

And Feng Yi, from start to finish, never left his chair, leisurely and carefree, fully displaying the bearing of a top master; if not for the two extra corpses on the ground, he would hardly believe this was real.

Those with somewhat higher martial arts, whose vision is lofty, saw that Feng Yi not only possessed deep inner strength but also unfathomable skill; upon thinking this, their palms unconsciously broke out in sweat.

The term "skill manual" is generic; it could be a technique name meaning "this secret manual", but it is not a specific name.

At this time, the hotel seemed to have fallen into stagnation.

He Bizheng exhaled a long breath, yet he was alternately startled and delighted, as if in a dream, until Feng Yi truly retreated back to the table, where he was pouring wine, unaware that his legs went weak and he collapsed limp on the ground.

Feng Yi glanced back and found it utterly laughable.

He had originally heard that the Dongting Shuangyi had been searching for Ding Dian for ten years, surely they possessed extraordinary skills; who would have thought they were so inadequate.

He just didn't know that, in the original plot, these two brothers were the first to break into the Jingzhou prefectural office and deliver heads to Ding Dian.

Whether their martial arts are formidable is another matter, but their courage is truly fierce!

Now circumstances have changed; the Feng Yi they encountered is not weaker than Ding Dian was back then—this too is their fate! Perhaps it is the fate of every martial artist! If they don't die by this person's hand, they will die by another's; truly those who can meet a good end among martial masters are few and far between!

Feng Yi pondered this, fell silent for a moment, then said leisurely, 'You are not as clueless as your brother about the heights of heaven and depths of earth; I'll let you go!'

He Bizheng stared at Feng Yi, his lips trembling, his eyes showing a dazed expression, then overjoyed beyond control, he grabbed the bodies of his brother and Wang Shaohua, turned and fled.

Feng Yi casually broke off a bit of wood scrap from the table corner, without even looking, flicked it with his thumb and forefinger—'whoosh'.

He Bizheng let out a muffled groan, his right thigh went numb, his whole body went weak and limp, he collapsed to the ground, and in a blink he saw that it was merely a wood chip fallen on the floor.

He Bizheng needed no thought to know who did it; looking at Feng Yi, he quivered, 'What do you want?'

Feng Yi laughed and scolded, 'You call yourself an old hand in the martial world, yet you don't even know the most basic etiquette—so-called Dongting Shuangyi, that's all you are!'

He Bizheng's face turned dark purple, his eyes suddenly widened; 'a scholar may be killed but not humiliated'—his lips twitched, he remained silent for a while, then slowly said, 'Not bad, it's that I don't understand the rules!'

'Would leaving one hand be enough?' he said, drawing the knife from his brother's corpse, about to chop off his right hand.

Feng Yi tapped his wine cup and said, 'If I wanted your hand, would I not take it myself?'

'Two things: first, you will give all the money on your brothers' persons to the innkeeper; second…'

Feng Yi revealed a faint smile and said slowly, 'I killed your sworn brothers; you ought to avenge them, but with your skill, even thirty more years of training would likely not suffice! Yet now the martial heroes of the Lianghu region have all come here, all for my Divine Illumination Classic and Linked City Secret on my person.'

You have just seen Shui Sheng and Wang Xiaofeng; they are here, and among the Southern Four Oddities, someone must surely be nearby.

Follow them upward; the Southern Four Oddities are today's great heroes, and once they hear that I and many heroes are gathered here, they will surely come; if they defeat and kill me, that will count as your avenging your brothers.

Saying this, his eyes flashed like lightning, he looked around, patted his chest, and said, 'Thus the martial arts on my person have become ownerless; whose hands they will fall into depends on your abilities!'

Upon hearing this, everyone was moved, yet they also secretly admired Feng Yi's extraordinary boldness.

He Bizheng nodded and said, 'My lord, please show mercy; I too know gratitude, I dare not repay this grudge, I will certainly see to the matter, and dare not violate it!'

He searched his own body, his brothers', and Wang Shaohua's, found a few banknotes and some loose silver, wrapped them together, and flung them onto the inn's counter.

The innkeeper had long since hidden himself out of sight.

He Bizheng then manipulated the blood flow at the Huantiao point, unsealing the blocked meridians; suddenly he rose, seized the two corpses, and fled on foot.

Feng Yi glanced askance at the crowd; everyone stared fixedly at him, and when his gaze swept over them, fear showed in their eyes.

Feng Yi gave a light chuckle, lifted the wine jug, poured a cup, and said coldly, 'You are all here for me, gathered together; why haven't you made a move yet? Or are you waiting for me to hand over the martial arts with both hands?'

As soon as he spoke, someone immediately stood up holding a weapon, but their eyes darted about, they exchanged a glance, and then sat down again.

Everyone understands that although the treasure is good, whoever steps forward first will surely follow in the footsteps of the Dongting Shuangyi; it's better to let someone else go first, wait until Feng Yi's strength wanes, then take action.

These people are not from the same sect; though they share the same thought, they appear to be dozens in number, yet each harbors ulterior motives.

Feng Yi read their expressions, knowing they hoped someone else would go first so he could reap the benefits; he raised his neck, downed the cup of wine, slowly rose, and said coldly, 'With such courage, you still dare to covet peerless martial arts?'

Seeing his eyes flash with killing intent, at that moment a loud shout rose from the crowd: 'Exactly, if we fear death, how could we obtain the martial arts?'

'First take him down, then we can discuss splitting the spoils equally! If latercomers get the upper hand, wouldn't we have come for nothing?'

Feng Yi suddenly burst into loud laughter, the sound shaking the roof tiles, dust drifting down from the ceiling.

The crowd's eardrums ached from the laughter; suddenly, two swishing sounds, two points of cold light shot straight at Feng Yi.

Feng Yi's laughter ceased, he flicked his sleeve, and only two 'clang' sounds were heard as two flying glittering stones embedded into the wall, sinking three inches into the wood.

Feng Yi casually lifted the nearby table and slapped it toward the person who had launched the concealed weapon; that person raised his knife and chopped.

With a 'crack', the table instantly shattered like sand and stone into fragments, bowls and wood chips flying everywhere.

Feng Yi's body swayed like a startled swan lightning-fast; he had already closed in on that person, reached out and seized his chest, and lifted him up.

This person had just thrown the concealed weapon with swiftness, his knife strike was fierce and powerful, evident to all that his martial arts were not weak; yet once Feng Yi grabbed him, his knife immediately slipped from his hand, and he went limp, utterly motionless.

Feng Yi slightly turned his wrist, already lifting the man with his head downward; when he loosened his grip, the big man's head hit the floor with a 'thud', he curled up on the ground, eyes rolled back, utterly motionless, alive or dead unknown.

Someone in the crowd shouted loudly, 'We who wander the martial world lick blood from the blade's edge; Feng's martial arts are too high—if we don't join forces, we won't even get the treasure, and likely none will escape his deadly grasp!'

Although the crowd saw Feng Yi's martial arts as astonishing and world-shocking, martial artists are not merely greedy for life and afraid of death; they simply judge whether it is worth it.

At the thought of that divine skill treasure, they merely regarded Feng Yi as a golden hoard of wealth, fame, and status; their courage grew a bit, a hint of ruthlessness flashed in their eyes, they all brandished weapons and roared in unison, 'Everyone, charge together!'

'Hack him to death!'

Brandishing their weapons, they surged forward.

Feng Yi sneered, 'Now that's more like it!'

His figure flickered, he charged into the crowd, and reached out to seize the two knife-wielding big men.

It seemed merely an ordinary grappling technique, yet those two could neither dodge nor block; under Feng Yi's grasp, they went limp like noodles, collapsing to the ground without even a groan.

Five or six men, seeing this, dropped their weapons in unison, but Feng Yi, as if strolling through a leisurely courtyard, slipped out of the weapon net and, with a casual motion, seized and killed two of them.

No matter what attack or evasion the opponent used, Feng Yi simply grabbed casually; wherever he passed, all fell helplessly to the ground, his steps never disrupted, invincible in every direction! In an instant, over ten men died soundlessly. These people, who had spent their lives wandering the martial world, had never seen such a method; their hearts trembled as if facing death, and a few timid ones fled for their lives.

Feng Yi smiled and said, 'Too late!'

He casually seized two men and flung them out.

'Woo—woo—'

These two big men, though their martial arts were not high, each weighed about 160 to 170 catties, yet Feng Yi tossed them like scarecrows toward the few people who had run to the door.

With a few "bang-pap" sounds, several people rolled their eyes, and in an instant they didn't know whether they were alive or dead.

Of course this not knowing life or death is merely that others don't know.

Feng Yi naturally knew; when he seized people, though his effort was heartfelt, he shattered the heart‑vessels of the two, and when he flung them out he again used "strike through objects", directly smashing to death those who tried to flee.

Feng Yi had long since figured it out: in the world of the "Linked City Secret", apart from a few individuals like Di Yun and Ding Dian, the martial arts folk hardly had any trace of humanity, and since he carried a great treasure, everyone coveted it! How then could he lower his own risk?

Only killing!

Kill to earn a fearsome reputation, so no one dares to scheme against him.

After all, there's the saying "a thousand days as a thief, but no day to guard against thieves"; as for creating boundless killing karma, he doesn't care.

Like the martial arts figures of the Heavenly Dragon, Divine Condor, or Heavenly Sword worlds, no matter how they behave, they still harbor patriotic righteousness and know to resist invasion.

When the nation is in peril, indiscriminately slaughtering martial folk is truly somewhat unfilial.

And in this Linked City world, any martial artist who robs me—who could not be killed?

In an instant, over fifty people in the inn were shaken to death—more than thirty by him, and another ten or so stood frozen on the spot.

In this warm spring season, beads of cold sweat sprang up on every forehead! For they felt this was not a siege on Feng Yi, but a one‑sided massacre by him.

Just look at whom he walks toward—that person must die! Moreover, anyone who tried to run for the doors or windows, or leap to break out, would die first, so they simply stayed still.

This way, they could linger a little longer.

Even that brief moment was the greatest luxury they could hope for.

Feng Yi, having eaten and drunk his fill, also had He Bizheng lure the Southern Four Oddities here, his purpose being to open a great slaughter.

Those he killed were terrified out of their wits! Let his name, Feng Yi, shock the world in a single battle!

After all, killing a single evil Daoist is far from enough to intimidate the wicked of the martial world!

In the span of a single thought, Feng Yi seized and killed another seven; having just grabbed an old man and about to unleash force to crush him, he suddenly heard a rustling of sleeves behind him sweeping through the air.

Following that came a vigorous, powerful voice: "Take this palm!"

At the same moment, Feng Yi felt a tremendous gust attack from behind, fierce beyond measure, awe‑inspiring, unprecedented, its force instantly reaching his back.

That man, thinking he was surely dead, suddenly saw a gray blur dash into the inn, split its palms, and strike toward Feng Yi.

Feng Yi judged the direction by sound, knowing the palm wind came with vicious force, fearing ordinary means could not withstand it; he did not release the man with his left hand, but instead expelled energy to shake him to death, then launched a Shadowless Divine Fist backward to meet the attacker.

Before their fists and palms even met, the inn was swept up like a hurricane; tables, bowls, and roof tiles clattered, with a thud.

When the fists and palms collided, the huge inn shuddered violently; dust and tile fragments rained down from the ceiling, and the remaining people, faces filled with terror, hurried to press against the walls.

Feng Yi felt the opponent's palm power pouring in like an endless river, as vast as the Yangtze; he staggered a step forward, his chest seeming to bear a huge stone, yet after drawing a breath of true qi he was fine again, raised a palm to guard his body, turned, and faced the newcomer.

When the newcomer's force met Feng Yi's, a warm current streamed straight into his skin, giving him a tingling numbness; he instinctively flipped a somersault, tumbled several zhang, and with a "deng deng deng" retreated three steps, cracking the floorboards, thus dissipating the residual shock, his face showing astonishment and anger.

Feng Yi saw the newcomer was slender, his features refined, a tuft of white‑gray beard on his chin, eyes bright and sharp, a long sword at his waist, and he said lightly, "Who are you, sir?"

After exchanging a move, Feng Yi was pushed forward a step; he felt the opponent's palm power surpassed that of the evil Daoist, the strongest master he had ever seen, worthy of an honorific.

The newcomer's eyes gleamed, he clasped his hands and proclaimed loudly, "Jiangnan's Shui Dai!"

Suddenly someone shouted, "Great Hero Shui!"

"Old Master Shui, please be our judge—this Feng Yi is addicted to killing..."

"He is a great scourge of the martial world!"

"Where are the three great heroes Lu, Hua, and Liu?"

Shui Dai's fame spread far; this crowd regarded him as their backbone and rushed to his side, but unexpectedly Feng Yi bellowed, "Whoever wants to die, just go ahead!"

He issued this shout with full internal force; the crowd's clamor was utterly suppressed, they suddenly felt a thunderclap in their ears, chest tight and breathless, a surge of hot blood rushing to their heads.

Suddenly a anguished cry rang out; an old man with white‑gray hair leapt forward, a "puff" of blood spurted from his mouth, and he collapsed to the ground.

In fact, this man had already been terrified by Feng Yi's methods into a state of utter panic; after hearing this thunder‑like shout, it was unclear whether he died of fright or was shaken to death by internal force.

Regardless, everyone was greatly shocked and dismayed; nobody dared to move an inch, standing like clay statues, merely looking pleadingly at Shui Dai, their hearts in turmoil.

Shui Dai stared at Feng Yi, noting his tall, jade‑like bearing, lofty aura, and eyes shining with divine light—clearly his internal cultivation had reached the highest level; he inwardly marveled and said, "Are you Feng Yi, the closed‑door disciple of Old Master Mei?"

Feng Yi's deeds at the Jingzhou magistrate's office had spread throughout Jiangbei and Jiangnan in just a few days; Shui Dai's name filled the world, his prestige shook Jiangnan, so of course he knew.

He harbored no slight contempt; upon striking he raised his power to full strength, yet Feng Yi's earlier fist force was so fierce, his internal energy so profound, that even his own decades of cultivation could barely withstand it. Such divine techniques were beyond even his sworn brothers.

It made this renowned martial arts master of many years also believe that Feng Yi had truly received the authentic transmission of the Divine Illumination Skill; otherwise how could he possess such ability?

Feng Yi saw that Shui Dai's features were proper, his bearing harmonious, exactly matching the image of a righteous hero in his mind, and he also knew from the original story that Shui Dai would rather die than suffer disgrace, indeed a notable figure; thus he said, "Old Master Mei and Senior Brother Ding share a half‑teacher bond; I was taken as a disciple by Senior Brother Ding in his master's stead, and he taught me martial arts in this way."

Feng Yi also knew that his claim to be the closed‑door disciple of Mei Niansheng was somewhat empty, and that Shui Dai was not one of the three wicked disciples of the Mei school, so he did not insist on being acknowledged.

The meaning behind his words was: if you treat me as such, then I am; if not, it doesn't matter.

Shui Dai sneered, "Even if you truly are Old Master Mei's disciple, were he alive he would surely not acknowledge you as his disciple, seeing your ruthless methods."

Feng Yi couldn't help but chuckle, "I imagine that if my master knew Great Hero Shui lacked martial virtue and ambushed me, a youngster, he would not rest easy even in the nine springs."

(End of chapter)