Chapter 90

The two went into an inn, had dinner, Hong Lingbo tidied up, and then saw Feng Yi sitting at the table, holding a plain sheet of paper, his brows slightly furrowed.

Hong Lingbo snorted coldly and said, "This is clearly that woman's handwriting. Think about it—who is your lover who cares for you but is too shy to show herself?"

Feng Yi couldn't help but laugh and said, "I only have you as my lover."

Hong Lingbo asked, "Then who is this woman, and why is she so kind?"

Feng Yi said, "I do have someone in mind, but I'm not entirely sure."

Hong Lingbo chuckled and said, "Not sure? Is it because you like her, but she ignores you?"

Feng Yi gave a bitter smile and said, "The reason I took you to Chang'an Prefecture that day, didn't let you show your face, and even dragged you away when leaving was to make people think you were forced."

Hence the rumor in the jianghu that a master who abducts a woman must have seized an unparalleled beauty, whereas in reality we two love each other, and I am so young.

No one else would think me a master who kills officials, nor could they pair us together, but this woman knows my surname is Feng, clearly she has witnessed everything we have done.

Yet to follow me without my noticing is something no ordinary person could do.

But if it's someone behind her, I don't know when they started tailing us, and how much of our conversations they have learned.

Feng Yi thought, rubbing his chin.

That day, while flirting, we certainly didn't say little about Huang Yaoshi and Mei Chaofeng! Hong Lingbo saw him lost in thought and didn't ask further.

Feng Yi stared at the plain paper, examined it a moment, then suddenly said, "It seems many masters have gathered at Longju Stronghold, waiting for me to take the bait!"

"Many?" Hong Lingbo frowned and asked, "Just how skilled are these masters?"

Feng Yi laughed, "At the very least, they're no weaker than Li Mochou!"

Hong Lingbo was startled, remained silent for a while, then said, "How could there be so many masters in the world!"

Feng Yi smiled, "The world is vast, indeed hiding dragons and crouching tigers!"

Hong Lingbo also smiled lightly and said, "If that's the case, are you going or not?"

Feng Yi hesitated slightly, looked back at Hong Lingbo, gazed at her, and asked, "What do you think?"

Hong Lingbo said, "Wherever you go, I will go; that's my thought!"

Feng Yi let out a sigh, Hong Lingbo handed him the precious whip and said, "I've played enough with this whip; we need money in many places, so you should exchange it for silver."

Feng Yi felt a surge of emotion, nodded, and said, "You're truly kind."

Hong Lingbo said disdainfully, "I dislike this whip because it's too eye‑catching—brandishing it either invites greed or reveals my identity. Since I don't have your abilities, besides giving it to you, what else can I do?"

Feng Yi smiled and said nothing.

His giving the whip to Hong Lingbo is only natural between lovers; she could return it willingly without keeping it for herself. Aside from other things, just this one point—she has corrected much of the arrogance and conceit she learned from Li Mochou.

This is a necessary condition for surviving long in the jianghu.

When night fell, Feng Yi changed into dark clothes and said, "I'm going out for a bit."

Hong Lingbo said, "Be careful!"

Whenever Feng Yi arrives somewhere, he first scouts the area before acting; she has grown accustomed to this.

Feng Yi left the house, lightly leapt onto the roof, looked afar—the western moon was setting, a long wind blew, truly refreshing.

Feng Yi displayed his movement skill, leapt over the inn's wall, climbed and walked along the rooftops of the town, moving very slowly, as if carefully discerning the route in the dark.

After a while, Feng Yi hurried to the suburbs, reached a woodland edge, saw the trees dense all around, ran a couple of steps, lightly landed behind a stone, drew his body in, and hid in the darkness.

After a moment, a figure flashed past the moonlit side, light as cloud fluff, drifting over.

The two were far apart; Feng Yi couldn't see the face, but the person had narrow shoulders, a slim waist, and a graceful figure—clearly a young woman.

Soon the woman also arrived at the woodland edge and stopped.

Feng Yi saw only that her face was as pale as a corpse, yet her eyes reflected the moonlight, gleaming in the darkness—exactly the green‑clad maiden he had seen earlier.

Feng Yi's mind turned, he let out a soft laugh, plucked a blade of grass, and shot it toward her waist with a swish.

The woman was highly alert, her eyes still bright, but her body bent like a willow in a gale, forming a great arc; the grass missed by a fraction, sweeping past her waist.

After dodging, the woman turned her lovely eyes and said, "So you were deliberately luring me!" Her movement floated like clouds as she tried to leap into the woods.

Feng Yi laughed, "Excellent lightness skill!"

He drifted slowly over the girl's head, this time exerting his full strength, moving like a ghost, employing the Heavenly Net, Earthly Trap technique.

Seeing someone ahead, the woman sank her stance, planted her foot, turned, and ran again.

All that was heard was Feng Yi's hehe laugh; without lifting his feet or moving his hands, he suddenly appeared before her, feigning ignorance: "Oh, you're the lass who attacked in broad daylight!"

The maiden hastily turned left again, using her sect's lightness skill to try to escape, but Feng Yi blocked her once more and said, "Miss, was that plain paper written by you? I have many questions I'd like you to answer."

Yet the woman said nothing more; as Feng Yi spoke, she shifted six or seven positions, but all she could see were his afterimages.

The maiden felt dizzy and angry, a flicker of fear mixed with inexplicable ire; raising her right hand, she flung a weapon from her sleeve, aiming for Feng Yi's Shanzhong point.

This point is also called the "middle dantian", a vital spot for heart and lungs; striking it would either kill or cripple.

Feng Yi saw the weapon flash, about three feet long, a silver rod like a jade flute or ivory xiao, wielded with graceful elegance, possessing an ethereal bearing; he thought, "Indeed, if I don't show my true skill, I won't provoke that lurking enthusiast!"

At once Feng Yi shifted his true qi, secretly circulating the Divine Illumination Skill, covering his chest; the green‑clad girl expected him to dodge, but the jade flute thrust straight in, she couldn't retract in time and cried, "Fall back……"

Before she finished, a "da" sound rang; the struck spot felt like an iron plate, a burst of force erupted from his body, and the jade flute flew from her hand.

Feng Yi snapped his wrist, seized the jade flute again, shoved it back into her hand, his feet like released springs, he flipped backward and stood smiling ten feet away.

That shake, push, and retreat were faster than lightning.

The maiden understood, stepped back two steps, her eyes shining, nodded slightly and whispered, "Master Feng, your martial prowess is indeed formidable; I, a mere girl, have been meddlesome!" Then she turned and left.

Seeing that Feng Yi was about her age, she had received a true transmission from a famous master, yet in his hands she felt like a toy, greatly disappointing her teacher's reputation; thinking this, her nose soured and eyes heated, tears glimmering! Feng Yi noticed that when she spoke, her facial muscles didn't twitch at all; if not for hearing the voice from her mouth, he would have thought she was a walking corpse, yet her voice was extraordinarily soft and clear.

Whether it was the gentle night, the intoxicating wind, or something else, Feng Yi actually felt a wakeful weariness that forgot worries.

But seeing her about to leave, Feng Yi hastily stepped forward to block her, about to ask, when he saw her eyes brimming with tears.

Feng Yi's thoughts raced: "Why is she crying? Ah, the disciples of Huang Yaoshi all love to save face for their master; she must feel she's embarrassed him."

Thinking to thicken his skin, he reversed his true qi, coughed several times, his face flushed red, stepped back three steps, trembling finger pointed at her, and said in a quavering voice, "Your swordsmanship is terrifying—I can't take it……"

The woman, seeing clearly in the moonlight, noted Feng Yi's face was as dark as pig's liver, he could barely breathe; suddenly she recalled her own jade flute sword art, which focuses on attacking meridians, and is indeed a peerless skill of the present age.

Moreover, in her panic she struck his vital point, her heart churned, she swooshed sideways to him, trembling: "You... you... you how are you, why didn't you dodge?"

Just thinking that he might die, she couldn't help shivering.

Feng Yi originally intended to let the girl not feel too embarrassed, but seeing her fearful expression, he instantly felt pleased, glared and stuck out his tongue, then slowly said: "I never imagined that Feng Yi, who has roamed the world all his life, would today die at a lady's hand—truly a matter of timing and fate!" Having said that, he suddenly flung himself backward, holding his breath.

Feng Yi was naturally skilled at acting—after all, Ling Tui Si had been fooled by him before—and now he supplemented it with his divine skill. This earnest performance made the girl involuntarily disbelieve; seeing him collapse, she hurriedly embraced him, uttering a string of "you"s, but then fell silent.

Because she could not feel Feng Yi's breath, she did not know whether she had killed him, and did not know what to say.

Feng Yi's eyes slightly opened; though her face was indeed ugly, once embraced he saw her gaze like autumn waters, and beneath the ugly face a neck smooth as jade fat; even though he was acting, Feng Yi could not help his blood surge, wishing he could stay there forever.

Especially through her green robe, he felt her skin as smooth as congealed fat, his heart surging with hot waves, rising and falling; plus a faint fragrance drifting straight to his nostrils, he couldn't help thinking: such a lady—who knows how beautiful she might be beneath the mask.

Feng Yi's thought moved, and inexplicably he reached out to touch her face.

The girl suddenly gasped, loosened her grip, and leapt backward like a fly, shouting: "You deceived me!"

Feng Yi's hand missed by a hair's breadth—not only did he grasp at air, he also fell straight down, but before his back touched the ground he pushed off with his feet, sprang up, and laughed loudly: "Miss, I was just joking."

"However, your lightness skill and sword technique are truly excellent; if my inner strength weren't just a bit stronger than yours, I couldn't have won!"

The girl secretly breathed a sigh of relief, and hearing him praise her lightness skill and sword technique, she felt a faint joy; yet recalling his earlier behavior, she was both annoyed and amused.

Originally she wore a hideous mask, causing everyone who saw her to steer clear; yet Feng Yi acted contrary to expectation, not only deceiving her but also wanting to touch her own face—if not for her decent martial skill, she would have been taken advantage of. The girl stood facing the evening wind, silent for a moment, then said: "Master Feng, this behavior does not befit a hero."

Feng Yi's clear black-and-white eyes swept over her; seeing that her green robe, though of plain cloth, was finely stitched and tailored to fit, accentuating her slender, graceful figure, he thought: "Such a gentle, lovely lady—whether or not Master Huang Yao is present, if I don't see what she looks like tonight, I won't be able to sleep well."

Feng Yi saw her gaze not yielding, smiled and said: "You're wrong!" He shook his head: "I'm no hero, just an ordinary man."

The young lady performed a salute and said: "Master Feng, there's no need for modesty. The Mongols have already been conscripting troops and training, mobilizing forces, preparing supplies, ready to launch a southern invasion to destroy our Song."

"The fertile plains of Guanzhong stretch a thousand li, exactly the linchpin of military logistics. The Inspector of Jingzhao, Lian Xianxian, is a legendary figure of the Western Regions' Uyghur tribe, yet he left a bold and vivid mark in the Mongol court."

He maintained close ties with Mongol nobles; his sudden assassination directly shook the courts and jianghu of both nations, already stirring a great uproar.

Moreover, you have been assassinating officials of all ranks across the Three Qins region, leaving the Mongols temporarily without suitable personnel to handle materiel preparation and transport, and causing officials at every level to panic, fearing they might lose their heads overnight or be struck by a poison needle.

This invasion of Song has, unbeknownst to anyone, been postponed, sparing who knows how many common folk from the flames of war.

And you possess formidable martial arts, are a true man, disregarding personal glory and danger; though I am shallow‑sighted, I also know that if someone like you were not called a hero, who in the world would deserve the title?

Her voice was soft and pleasant; seeing her speak solemnly and sincerely, Feng Yi naturally listened attentively.

Feng Yi originally cared little for personal reputation, nor did he consider being a hero a big deal, yet every man has some vanity, and Feng Yi was no exception.

Hearing these words, he felt greatly pleased; he immediately waved his hand and said: "Whether I am a hero or not, whether I am bold or not, I don't care—just to receive the lady's kind words already comforts my heart."

Straightening his expression, he clasped his fists and said: "Feng Yi thanks the lady for her reminder; I am deeply grateful. Please do not call me Master Feng—if you think well of me, just call me Feng Yi. May I ask your esteemed surname, and which venerable master is your teacher?"

The lady replied politely: "My humble surname is not worth mentioning; as for my benefactor, Master Feng will learn in time."

However, the disturbance you have caused in Shaanxi is no trivial matter; both the Mongols and the Song court feel immense pressure, and those below are doubly stressed, eager to know who you are and to eliminate you.

They have traced your departure from Chang'an, your southward march, the killing of the commander at Bamboo Forest Pass, and inferred that you intend to cross Longju Fortress and then pass through Zijin Gate heading south.

Thus the Mongol National Preceptor Jinlun, together with his disciples and some left‑hand masters, are waiting for you to walk into their trap—these people are truly not to be trifled with!

As he spoke, he stepped closer and said: "Master Feng, your martial arts are indeed formidable, but I am ordered to remind you to think twice before acting and not to rely solely on brute courage."

From his cloth pouch he took out a thin, silk‑like object and said: "This is a piece of human‑skin mask; wearing it will make your future endeavors much more convenient."

Her tone was refined; Feng Yi felt she was concerned for him, so he accepted it without hesitation and said: "Thank you, miss. It turns out you also carry a human‑skin mask—might I be allowed to see your true visage?"

The girl stepped back two paces, saying: "My mission is complete; I take my leave." She turned and hurried away.

Feng Yi, somewhat annoyed, said: "Miss, asking your name may seem abrupt and presumptuous, yet you won't even tell me your surname or your master, and you rush off like this—may I ask whether I still count as a hero in your eyes?"

The girl furrowed her brows, remained silent for a moment, then said slowly: "My surname is Cheng; my skills are modest, and I dare not disgrace my teacher's reputation."

My appearance is even more hideous; I fear I would frighten you, so better not to look.' Having said that, she departed.

Feng Yi laughed: "They say you can judge a person by their voice; Miss Cheng, so gentle and refined, how could she be ugly?"

Besides, no matter how ugly you are, I still want to see what my lifesaver looks like.

As he spoke, he unfolded his body to intercept her, but with a soft 'whoosh' his hairs stood on end—he sensed a hidden weapon approaching.

He had no time to turn and see the weapon's trajectory; the force already struck his back, realizing the opponent was a formidable master, yet relying on his divine skill he insisted on testing their strength, and with a sharp sound he lashed out with his left hand.

The Divine Illumination Skill arose in response, his palm flesh concave and convex, meridians circulating, neutralizing the incoming force, and he lightly caught the hidden weapon in his hand.

Opening his palm, he saw it was an emerald pine seed; its residual force not spent, it spun nonstop.

Cheng Ying exclaimed joyfully: "Master!"

Feng Yi lifted his gaze and saw a person in green robes standing silently atop a large tree several zhang away; the individual's expression was ghostly and alluring, and he said lightly: "Excellent skill!"

His voice was deep and vigorous, and his cultivation had reached the level of divine penetration. As soon as he spoke, a flash of light appeared between his eyes; he tapped the branches with his feet, borrowing that tiny rebound, shot upward like an electric bolt, like a heavenly rainbow, and darted swiftly into the forest.

Feng Yi inwardly sneered: "Hiding his head while showing his tail—truly nefarious!" He leapt up, landed on the treetop, while that figure was already ten zhang away.

Feng Yi unfolded his form, pushing his Eight‑Steps‑to‑Catch‑a‑Cicada lightness skill to the limit, like a wisp of light smoke treading the treetops as he gave chase.

That person also sensed the pursuit, quickened his steps, moving faster than lightning and shooting stars.

Miss Cheng also leapt onto the treetop, gazed ahead, and seeing the overlapping trees stretching endlessly, the two had already vanished into the night's depths, leaving her feeling bewildered.

The one who sent her to deliver the message to Feng Yi was her master; even though the master said nothing, recalling his nickname and temper, she immediately gave chase.

She was Cheng Ying; when Li Mochou annihilated the Lu family years ago, she was captured by her and narrowly escaped a poisonous death, but fortunately Master Huang Yaoshi of Peach Blossom Island happened to pass by and saved her life.

After his daughter married, Huang Yaoshi wandered the jianghu, making the world his home; old and lonely, he naturally felt desolate. Seeing Cheng Ying young, weak, and without support, he could not help but feel pity, cured her of the Ice Soul Silver Needle poison, and then kept her by his side.

Cheng Ying attended to him with meticulous care, far surpassing the playful, mischievous, and unrestrained Huang Rong of former years.

Huang Yaoshi's pity turned to affection, and he accepted her as his disciple.

Cheng Ying was clever and resourceful, though not as much as Huang Rong; she was attentive to the smallest details, and thus learned much from Huang Yaoshi. This year her martial arts had just matured; she reported to her master, wishing to travel north to find her cousin Lu Wushuang, but while on the Guanshan road she heard of Feng Yi's deeds—yet she did not know who that expert was, until she met her master, who said his name was Feng Yi.

Delivering the message and the mask to Feng Yi was also done under Huang Yaoshi's orders, not a personal initiative.

Huang Yao wore wide sleeves and loose robes, his steps unhurried and calm, his bearing devoid of any domineering air—just like a leisurely stroll in a courtyard—yet his beard and hair flew sideways, his sleeves fluttered, and his bodily speed was truly astonishing.

Seeing his lightness skill, self‑contained, graceful and magnificent, Feng Yi could not help but secretly admire him, thinking: "I'd like to have a good contest with you—see who is faster."

His competitive spirit aroused, he fully unleashed his divine skill, streaking across the sky like a meteor, the fierce wind making it hard to keep his eyes open.

Huang Yaoshi seemed intent on comparing foot speed with Feng Yi, yet he avoided the main road, choosing only rugged mountain trails and forest sprints, occasionally glancing back to observe Feng Yi.

He knew he appeared composed, but he had already exerted all his strength, while Feng Yi did not fall behind him by a step; he thought that the rumors in the jianghu said this youth's internal energy, blade technique, and lightness skill had all reached an extremely high level, and upon seeing it today, it was indeed so.

Such skill, I have seen only a handful in my lifetime, yet this kid is under twenty years old—I truly do not know how he trained to achieve this.

Feng Yi, however, thought: "No matter how strange you are, today I must determine superiority with you, see how long this old man can endure!"

Each lost in thought, their feet were not slow; when this rare martial art's extraordinary skill was displayed, the silent night became like two flying birds, or like two butterflies weaving through flowers, passing over trees and crossing mountains, in an instant they had run over thirty li.

At the start they were about ten zhang apart, and still are. Feng Yi, burning with pursuit, thought: "I am in my prime, this old man is at least eighty; over thirty li I have not closed even one zhang—where has my skill gone?"

Thinking this, he gathered his spirit, executed the Ancient Tomb Light Skill, and hurried after him.

This Ancient Tomb Light Skill truly is number one under heaven; in the time it takes to finish a cup of tea, the distance to Huang Yaoshi is no more than five zhang.

At that moment, arriving at a high peak where the ground was level, there lay a large red stone two zhang square, smooth and flat; Huang Yaoshi let out a long whistle, abruptly stopped and turned, his body unmoving.

Feng Yi checked his forward rush, standing as steady as Mount Tai; looking closely, he saw the man wearing a blue Confucian robe, slender build, expressionless, like a corpse, presumably wearing a human skin mask, thus his face could not be seen.

Huang Yaoshi laughed heartily, saying: "What a formidable youngster; if you keep running, I will lose to you!"

Although Feng Yi had guessed who the opponent was, the other would not reveal the truth, nor could he be too presumptuous; thus he clasped his hands and said: "I have no prior acquaintance with you, senior, yet you have your disciple warn me of danger, for which I am deeply grateful; I do not know why you have brought me here, what instructions do you have?"

Huang Yaoshi coldly said: "I thought you were a person of character, kindly helping you, never expecting you to be golden on the outside but rotten within, bullying my disciple; today I must seek justice for her!"

Feng Yi snorted and said: "Could you be the Eastern Heretic Huang Yaoshi?"

The man chuckled and said: "How do you know?"

Feng Yi calmly said: "Only the Eastern Heretic, Western Poison, Southern Emperor, Northern Beggar, and Old Urchin dare boast like that before me; I can hardly regard him as a deluded fool."

Only one who enjoys such mystification and wears a human skin mask could be the Eastern Heretic; in today's world, there is likely no other epithet!

The blue-clothed man gave a faint cold smile and said: "You are not only bold, but also clever. Indeed, I am Huang Yaoshi; let us exchange blows!"

Feng Yi saw him with hands behind his back, feet neither aligned nor splayed, full of flaws yet standing like a solitary peak, truly a renowned top master of decades; he raised his sword brows and said: "If so, shall we use weapons or bare hands? Considering your age, you choose the method; I will accompany you either way."

Huang Yaoshi smiled again and said: "To dare speak such words before me, Huang Yaoshi, I truly have some admiration for you; thus I will satisfy your wish—heard you have a precious blade, draw it out!"

Feng Yi's thoughts raced: "This person bears me no ill will, likely wishing to spar with me; but he is too old and his skill too high—if I clash with him using my Blood Saber, there will be risk; if I wound or kill him, Cheng Ying will surely hate me to death."

He had never even seen what Cheng Ying looked like, yet a wicked desire had already arisen in his heart; as for Huang Yaoshi, old age does not diminish his ability, and he truly does not fear him! Feng Yi laughed loudly and said: "It is not that I refuse to draw this blade; you may not believe it, but once my Blood Saber leaves its sheath, blood will inevitably be seen; out of respect for Miss Cheng, let us instead compare fists and feet."

As his words fell, he immediately leapt forward, sending out his right palm; the palm wind rustled, lifting Huang Yaoshi's robe corner, while his left palm, like a bird's wing cutting water, struck his forehead.

(End of Chapter)