Chapter 98: Is the Brain-Squeezing Wind Starting Again? (Special Chapter Thanks to

Lan Mr. had seen through the truth at a glance, and Liu Gugu’s heart was filled with shock and doubt.

Even she had only just confirmed that Xiao Fengxian could indeed rapidly steal the Nine Flower Sword Intent—how could Lan Mr.?

—No, Lan Mr. shouldn’t know Xiao Fengxian’s true level; he’s merely well-informed, having heard from Hongxiu Fang that I might bring Xiao Fengxian to visit him.

There are people from Busigu in Hongxiu Fang!

This was Liu Gugu’s first thought.

—Xiao Fengxian is such a big mouth!

This was Liu Gugu’s second thought.

Busigu placing agents or bribing people in Hongxiu Fang isn’t unusual.

Because Busigu also belongs to the Tianmen Association; the two sides are too closely linked.

Hongxiu Fang falls under the Jiaosifang, and according to Shu Kingdom law, it cannot force virtuous women into prostitution.

But Qingshuiwan has more than just Hongxiu Fang as brothels; Hongxiu Fang doesn’t directly buy and sell virtuous girls, but it can purchase high-quality girls already stripped of their good status from other brothels.

If Hui’er from the Xu family is truly worth twenty-five taels of silver, within half a month she will inevitably circle through and end up in Hongxiu Fang.

Given such tight ties between them, placing or bribing one or two people to gather information is too easy.

Xiao Yu’s “big mouth” is the key.

Yesterday, Xiao Yu publicly announced in Lixiang Garden: once Liu Gugu brings her to visit a martial elder who has mastered the Nine Flower Sword Intent, she will learn their Nine Flower Spirit, then return and give it to them.

“Lan Mr., what are you worried about? That my Xiao Fengxian will learn your Plum-Lan Spirit?” Liu Gugu smiled coyly, pressing a handkerchief to her lips.

Lan Mr. continued drinking with his head tilted up and painting plum blossoms with his head bowed, his voice cold: “If such a low-level provocation worked on me, I’d be a pig.”

Liu Gugu walked to the desk, carefully admiring Lan Mr.’s plum blossom painting, astonished inwardly, and praised aloud: “Master, you truly deserve the title ‘High Scholar of the Plum Grove’—this spring plum painting has more spirit than the actual plum grove before us.

Without the noble character and frost-defying bones of the plum, it could never have been painted.”

Lan Mr. smiled proudly, his pale face flushed faintly with wine, like the petals of plum blossoms on a tree.

“Liu San, you still have some discernment. But your abacus beads won’t click in my presence.

I’m not worried about anything—sword bone doesn’t equal understanding of the sword Dao.

Besides, her sword bone is shattered to dust, completely ruined, and she’s half-wasted already.

As for this ‘innate wisdom’ nonsense—hah! Pick any beggar from Tianmen Town and drop him in the Northern Wastes; even he’d be mistaken for a wise man born with innate talent, compared to the beast-like barbarians.

I simply refuse to be made a fool of, even by your laughably stupid tricks.”

Liu Gugu’s smile vanished. She spoke coolly: “If you merely find this troublesome and refuse to help with this small favor, I won’t press you.

But why do you repeatedly mock me?

Do you look down on me—or on Hongxiu Fang?

Even when asking your Grand Master himself for help, I speak directly—why would I need to play games?”

“Hey hey hey, Third Sister, I spoke foolishly—I apologize to you.”

A towering, massive man strode forward; even before he reached the plum garden gate, his loud, hearty laughter had already echoed out.

“Big Brother!” This time, Lan Mr. finally put down his brush and turned to bow respectfully.

In the past, Liu Gugu would have at least curtsied in greeting.

Now, angry as she was, she kept her face stern and motionless, saying only: “He’s drunk, yes—but drunk men speak truth. He kept his resentment bottled up before; now he’s spoken it outright—quite candid.

But I still don’t understand: when did Hongxiu Fang ever offend Busigu?

Did we send fewer wealthy patrons here for gambling? Or did we fail to treat your brothers properly when they came to Qingshuiwan for wine and women?

Or is it simply that you dislike me?”

“Ah, ah, ah, Third Sister, I spoke wrongly—I apologize.”

The Grand Master actually bowed to Liu Gugu.

Then he turned to Lan Mr. and urged gently: “It’s just a friendly sparring match—what’s the big deal?”

Lan Mr. frowned, about to speak, when the Grand Master added, with false kindness: “Remember, swords and blades have no eyes—don’t hurt this little girl.”

Lan Mr.’s heart stirred. He smiled and nodded: “Big Brother’s command—I dare not disobey!”

At first, Liu Gugu had thought the Grand Master was truly mediating; after his bow, her anger had largely subsided, and she was even about to say, “Grand Master, forgive me—I was impulsive just now.”

But then she caught a flash of ruthless intent in Lan Mr.’s eyes—and suddenly understood: Lan Mr. means to strike Xiao Fengxian down hard!

—Do you even know Xiao Fengxian belongs to the Prince of Qinghe? The Prince placed her in Hongxiu Fang to—no, you know everything. You’re targeting me! If anything happens to Xiao Fengxian, the Prince of Qinghe will blame only me!

Liu Gugu’s mind raced through countless thoughts in an instant, her expression shifting rapidly.

At this moment, Xiao Yu stepped forward, emerging from behind her, and bowed gracefully before the Grand Master and Lan Mr., her voice bright and clear: “Fengxian greets both Father Figures.”

She paused briefly, waiting for them to react. Good—they looked over. Their silence meant they didn’t reject the title “Father Figure.” “Great Annihilation Father” activated.

“Because Xiao Fengxian caused misunderstanding between you two Father Figures and Liu Gugu, I feel deeply uneasy. Now that Lan Mr. is willing to guide me in the Nine Flower Sword, I am overwhelmed with gratitude—I beg you, Master, don’t hold back, don’t spare me any instruction.

If I can gain even a fraction of insight into the Nine Flower Spirit, it will honor Liu Gugu’s expectations and repay your hard teaching, both Father Figures.”

Liu Gugu’s expression changed again. She snapped: “Xiao Fengxian, drop that reckless act—this isn’t Hongxiu Fang—”

“Ah, Third Sister, why get angry? Xiao Fengxian is simply honest. Sparring to exchange skills—how can that be called reckless? She’s a sword prodigy who’s slain a Human Immortal! Third Brother, you’re the one who should be careful.” The Grand Master laughed heartily.

“Big Brother’s right.” Lan Ruomei nodded, then turned toward the small pavilion at the edge of the plum grove and called: “Tingyun, Liufeng.”

“Yes, Master, your maidservant is here!”

A clear, melodious female voice came from the pavilion, and soon two graceful figures in blue and red ran out.

“Go back and fetch my Zi Dian Twin Swords.”

The two young women, both around eighteen or nineteen, halted and called out: “Master, if you’re to dance with the sword, how can you lack incense, a purified courtyard, and music?”

“Very well—bring everything.”

Tingyun and Liufeng moved swiftly: each carried one precious sword, followed by four lovely maids—one bearing an incense burner, one carrying a guqin, one playing with a jade flute, and one holding a purple sandalwood table.

“Master, your swords.” Tingyun and Liufeng knelt and offered the swords.

Lan Mr. idly drew one sword and tossed it to Xiao Yu: “Zi Dian Twin Swords are yin and yang—you’re female, take the yang sword; I’ll take the yin.”

He drew the other sword.

Meanwhile, the other four maids had arranged the purple sandalwood table and lit pure, lingering dragon’s blood incense.

Tingyun stood behind the table, her fingers dancing across the strings, releasing silk-smooth melodies.

Liufeng held the jade flute, its mournful notes blending perfectly with the qin’s music.

Xiao Yu tapped the blade with her finger—the clear, ringing sword tone lingered long.

“Truly an peerless treasure! But since these are yin-yang twin swords, Master must be accustomed to using both—how could I dare make you fight awkwardly?”

Xiao Yu tossed the yang sword back.

Lan Mr. frowned. “Then I’ll find you another fine sword.”

The maids moved to obey, but Xiao Yu waved them off: “It’s just sparring—a wooden sword will do. No need for treasures.”

She stepped into the grove and snapped off a plum branch.

Lan Mr.’s eyes instantly turned crimson. “You—”

“It’s just a dead branch—it hasn’t harmed your beloved plum trees,” Xiao Yu hurriedly said.

As she spoke, she raised her hand, showing everyone it was merely a withered twig.

“This is too much!” Tingyun and Liufeng stopped playing their instruments, glaring at Xiao Yu with furious eyes. “Where did this ignorant wild girl come from, daring to humiliate our Master so?”

The Grand Master could no longer maintain his hearty laugh. His face hardened as he stared coldly at Liu Gugu.

Liu Gugu’s expression twisted in conflict.

She knew Xiao Yu was clever—and clever people don’t act foolishly.

But now she was confused: is this Xiao Fengxian supremely confident, utterly contemptuous of Lan Ruomei? Or is she pretending ignorance, using a wooden sword to force Lan Ruomei to hold back lethal moves? Or has she suddenly lost her mind?

“I deeply respect Master Lan!” Xiao Yu cried plaintively. “To point a sharp blade at someone I respect—isn’t that the height of disrespect?”

The Grand Master gave Lan Mr. a look: don’t hold back—teach her a lesson.

“Tingyun, Liufeng—continue playing.”

Lan Mr.’s face was expressionless, his eyes icy. He slowly thrust his sword toward the empty air above Xiao Yu’s head.

Xiao Yu lightly sidestepped, then swung her branch like a sword, thrusting toward the empty space beside Lan Mr..

Lan Mr. lightly evaded.

Thus, the formalities of the sword duel were concluded.

Lan Mr.’s sword techniques grew swift as wind, his ferocity barely concealed.

Yet no matter how hard he rained blows, Xiao Yu never once touched a single leaf—always perfectly avoiding each strike.

After one blade grazed Xiao Yu’s nose, Lan Mr. stepped back two paces, exclaiming repeatedly: “Good, good, good—excellent! You truly killed Kong Zan—not just by luck.”

Xiao Yu bowed. “It’s because Master held back—please, don’t hold back.”

“Good, good, good—excellent!” Lan Mr. gritted his teeth, his handsome face flushed with rage.

He truly stopped holding back.

Previously, though wielding twin swords, he’d used only one, and his strikes carried only true qi—not spiritual intent.

Now, as he swung his blade, all anger vanished from his face and eyes, replaced by calm serenity. His demeanor became elegant and lofty—like a quiet orchid in a mountain hollow, like a frost-defying plum blossom in snow.

The greatest change lay in his sword techniques: every strike, every wisp of sword qi, now had its own life—like living things that refused to let the enemy dodge, pulling Xiao Yu into a thicket of mountain orchids, trapping her in the plum grove, surrounded by falling petals, each one a killing blade, each petal transformed into sword edge and sword qi.

Xiao Yu was no longer as composed as before.

Her movements grew clumsy; she had to constantly swing her withered branch to block the plum-orchid sword qi.

Yet her slight disarray only deepened the Grand Master’s solemn expression.

Liu Gugu’s earlier worry and conflict vanished; her face now held ease and awe.

Tingyun and Liufeng still played, but the qin and flute melodies had changed tone.

“How is this possible? She really blocked the young master’s endless sword intent with nothing but a branch?” All four maids understood martial arts and at least grasped the meaning and power of sword intent.

Even if Xiao Yu had used her own sword intent to clash directly with Master Lan’s Orchid Plum Sword Formation, they would not have been so stunned—but Xiao Yu had not used a sword at all.

She held a withered branch, its tip bearing only a faint trace of sword qi, no intent whatsoever.

“Hey, Master Lan, wait a moment!”

Xiao Yu kicked off the ground and shot backward ten meters in a flat glide, fully retreating from the battlefield.

“The sword duel isn’t over—come back here!” Master Lan roared, his eyes blazing red.

“Master, don’t rush—Fengxian isn’t fleeing out of fear. It’s just that a branch isn’t a sword; it’s awkward to hold.” Xiao Yu called out.

“Go get her a sword!” Master Lan bellowed at the maids.

“No, no, no!” Xiao Yu waved her hands frantically. “The branch is fine—it’s my hand that’s clumsy, not coordinating well with it. Please wait a moment while I persuade it.”

Then, under the stares of those who thought her mad, Xiao Yu stuck the branch into the dirt before her, gripped her left thumb with her right hand, and snapped it hard—“Crack!”

With a sharp, loud crack of bone, her right thumb’s fingernail nearly touched the back of her hand.

Everyone was stunned by her madness; seeing the twisted thumb, they felt a pang of dental discomfort.

They didn’t even realize a faint thread of fear was beginning to sprout in their hearts.

It was the natural dread ordinary people felt toward insane individuals they couldn’t comprehend.

Xiao Yu seemed to feel no pain—she glared sternly at her left hand and said, “You see? This is what happens when you disobey.”

Then she extended her intact left hand to pick up the branch stuck in the ground.

She swung the branch a few times with her left hand, frowned, then shoved it back into the dirt, brought her left hand to her face, and scolded, “Still refusing to behave? Do you think without my right hand, no matter how defiant you are, I’m forced to use only this left one?”

“Hey!” she shouted, grabbed her left thumb with four fingers of her right hand, and twisted it hard—“Crack!”

“She’s got a cracked brain!” one maid stammered, her teeth chattering.

The boss swallowed hard and glanced questioningly at Aunt Liu.

Aunt Liu muttered, “This desert barbarian… maybe she really is a little cracked.”

“Hahahaha! You’re underestimating me too much! Without your hands, I still have a pair of feet!”

Xiao Yu crossed her feet at the heels, kicked off her embroidered shoes and cloth socks, leapt lightly, and clamped the branch between her bare soles, then flipped 180 degrees in midair, head down and feet up.

She balanced on one hand, the branch held tightly between her feet, and called out: “Master Lan, now we’re ready—let’s begin.”

“Brat! How dare you mock me so? Deliberately breaking your own thumb to fight me with your feet? I’ll kill you!”

Prince Yun burned with rage, his five organs seething; his true qi reversed course, blood surged to his throat—but he forcibly swallowed it back.