Chapter 159: Breaking Through

Yang Yan was immediately faced with a choice.

He could hide and wait for other waiters to serve the old man a pot of normal wine, but that way he might finish drinking very quickly, and Pei Ye definitely wouldn't be able to rush back in time.

He knew from the menu just now that the other party had only pre-ordered two pots of wine, and he might leave after drinking them.

He could also find a way to serve this pot of medicine-laced wine—he wouldn't make a move himself, but diarrhea could still delay for a considerable amount of time.

But once that happened, the old man's reaction after drinking this pot of wine would be unpredictable, and he would have to adapt to the situation.

Perhaps there were too many guests today, and the waiters were a bit short-handed. The old man looked around for a while, and for a moment, no one received him. He stood up, looking for the green-clothed man.

Yang Yan felt a tightness in his heart, immediately hid behind the pillar, and lowered his head to pretend to be busy.

After being quiet for a few breaths, he tentatively raised his eyes to glance over there, seeing that a green-clothed attendant had already walked up, exchanged a few words with the old man, and then walked quickly toward this side.

Yang Yan wrapped his saber and sword deeper into his clothes.

"What's going on? Why not serve wine to the guest?" The green-clothed man walked over and frowned, saying in a low voice.

Knowing that the old man might look over here, his behavior absolutely couldn't look suspicious at this moment. Yang Yan moved a few steps into the shadows, with his back to the lamp fire, and also frowned: "How would I know? As soon as I came over, I saw the wine placed here, and the person who served the wine didn't know where he went."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm from the seventh floor."

"This floor's runner should be Zhang Erquan, where is he?"

"Ah, it's him! He was just harassed by a guest. That guest asked him to bring two guards up, and then let them jump down together."

"... What kind of mess is this." The green-clothed man frowned, "Hurry up and serve this to the guest."

Yang Yan pressed his abdomen: "No, no—my stomach is acting up, I'm going to the toilet, you serve it first."

"I—"

Without waiting for the other party to look closely, Yang Yan had already bent his waist and walked quickly toward the corridor, leaving a sentence: "Just a matter of carrying a tray, hurry up."

The green-clothed man looked down at the tray on the table. He also had things queuing up, but this wasn't the time to delay, so he had to curse secretly and carry the tray respectfully to serve.

Bowang Garden was indeed busy enough today.

Yang Yan entered the toilet. At this time, everyone in the building was busy. Standing there idly was indeed too suspicious, so he simply hid inside and didn't come out again.

He sniffed his nose—he had just discovered that this toilet was actually quite fragrant.

He drew his short sword, aimed at the position, and true Qi climbed onto the blade, digging a small hole silently on the wooden wall.

Looking through the hole, the green-clothed man had already placed the wine for the old man and left after bowing. The old man poured out a small cup as usual. Yang Yan held his breath, watching him slowly drink it into his throat.

The old man put down the cup, paused for a while, and didn't move.

Was it detected?

Yang Yan gripped the short sword in his hand, and fine sweat seeped from his palms.

However, the old man didn't make any reaction. He picked up the pot and poured another cup, sprinkled two flower petals into the cup, and continued to drink it with his head held high. Until it seemed that he had finished drinking a pot of wine, the old man didn't reveal any abnormality.

But logically speaking, the medicine should have taken effect by now.

Yang Yan frowned nervously and observed, and finally, he saw the old man pick up the staff and stand up.

Yang Yan immediately moved his gaze away from the small hole, and the sword in his hand began to accumulate power at the same time.

Is he coming over?

He sat down, pretending to be an ordinary person going to the toilet, but the sword in his hand didn't loosen at all.

But after waiting for a while, he never heard any footsteps.

According to the old man's speed when he came in, he should have finished this distance. Yang Yan frowned, stood up lightly, and carefully looked through the small hole again—he didn't see that figure at all.

There was no one on the path over, the table was empty, and he was nowhere to be seen.

Yang Yan felt a tightness in his heart, and looking again, he saw a corner of a cloak that flashed by at the stairs going downstairs.

Actually left directly!

Yang Yan rushed out of the toilet immediately, chased down from this narrow staircase for attendants, and only felt relieved when he reached the fourth floor—that figure was walking steadily in the corridor at that end.

What's going on? Are the laxatives completely useless?

Yang Yan thought it shouldn't be. He clearly saw the old man drink two pots of wine in order, and his master had "praised" this medicine more than once.

So it wasn't useless, but the old man was using true Qi to suppress it.

A martial artist's control over their own body with true Qi could reach an unimaginable level. Such discomfort as a stomach upset wouldn't have any problem for the old man to walk back and fight ten more battles.

It's just, why did he want to suppress it?

Perhaps he didn't like the toilet here, perhaps he had already realized that this was someone's deliberate doing.

When realizing this point, Yang Yan's heart surged with both tension and relief.

Tension was because he had to find a way to stop him, and relief was because Pei Ye's words before leaving seemed to have been verified—they were not assassinating, they were eliminating evil. When this person realized he might be watched, he didn't dare to be high-profile, but intended to leave as if nothing had happened.

He was also very nervous!

In an instant, Yang Yan's confidence increased greatly. Although he was also a fugitive who couldn't be seen, the enemy was in the light and he was in the dark. As long as he shouted "The murderer is here," the one who would get more targeting would be this person, and he just needed to find a chance to leave.

This strategy was much simpler and safer than facing a strong enemy alone.

The youth had a realization in his heart. Thinking that he was abandoned by heaven and earth, and having to walk alone in the night, wasn't it a kind of stupidity and arrogance? Heroes have a hard time walking alone, but borrowing power is also free. No matter what the situation, even if you are at the end of your rope, you should try to find temporary allies with the same purpose.

In the time since the incident, he had been learning new things every day.

Thinking in his heart, the other side of the old man had gone down to the third floor. Yang Yan's heart was determined. He planned—he wouldn't go down anymore, and when the old man walked out of the building gate, he would stand on the third floor and point at him and shout loudly.

He glanced at the garden below. People were in groups of three or five. Looking at many people, he knew they had martial arts skills.

Yang Yan's heart was determined. He continued to go down to the third floor along the narrow stairs. When he went down halfway, he could already see the situation on the third floor, and his gaze immediately went to the corridor to look for the old man's figure—he didn't see it.

Yang Yan's body was as if nailed to the spot. He searched the hall quickly, and the body that had experienced danger had already tensed up like a stress response. His hand subconsciously gripped the sword hilt, and a majestic wave had accumulated in it.

This action saved him.

Yang Yan's vision swept across the hall from right to left. Suddenly, he realized something, and lowered his head stiffly and slowly.

Looked.

An old man wearing a cloak was standing under the stairs, looking up at him.

This was a face that was fine and white, pampered and spoiled, not the look of a martial artist who was often exposed to wind and sun. The fine wrinkles on this face were like the small ripples on a silk scarf.

His nose was high and lips thick, and his eyes were one big and one small, like a white-faced ferret.

Seeing Yang Yan lower his head stiffly, the corner of his mouth hooked into an arc.

He wasn't trying to escape, but to lure out this person who was spying in the dark!

There was no time to think. The sword Yang Yan held in his hand exploded immediately.

He made an absolutely correct decision—this sword wasn't toward the old man in front, but toward the building wall beside him.

——

In Bowang Garden, the fine silk hanging from the sky was like weaving.

The guests coming down from the Wind-Watching Terrace were becoming fewer and fewer, almost dispersed. Two young men's figures walked down the steps slowly, one symmetrical and one thin.

"I thought about it, better not tomorrow, you go back today," Xiao Qiu looked at the youth lowering his head and silent beside him. His shoulders were drooping, like paper soaked in rain.

"I'll stay here and watch him, you go back and set off early, it's all the official road."

Zheng Dong was silent for a while, and said in a low voice: "I haven't fought the martial competition yet."

"Still fighting what martial competition?!" Xiao Qiu frowned and drank low, "Want to fight the martial competition and still cause trouble?!"

"I want to stay here and fight the martial competition," Zheng Dong repeated with his head lowered, his voice muffled and hard, "I'm not afraid of that dog."

He held that bright feather in his hand, the flowing green after the rain reflected in his eyes, and the young girl's light "Wish you good luck in the martial competition!" was as if in his ears.

Xiao Qiu's anger seemed to be ignited at once. He tried hard to suppress it: "I'm f*cking afraid, okay?! You have no father or mother, that Aunt Zhang raised you so big, you don't provide for her old age?"

He looked at the Cuiyu feather in the young man's hand, and his anger surged up again: "What the f*ck are you thinking all day?! You die, Li Piaoqing sheds two tears for you, is that enough to make you happy? Do you know how many tears Aunt Zhang will shed?!"

Zheng Dong's face flushed red, and he pulled Xiao Qiu's collar away: "I didn't think that!!"

Real anger also sprayed from his eyes.

The two stood in the tree shadows of the Wind-Watching Terrace, looking at each other's out-of-control expressions.

Zheng Dong lowered his head first: "I didn't think that, Second Brother, how am I worthy... to have that kind of thought about Miss Li."

"Then what are you thinking?" Xiao Qiu looked at him, "Watching the Cuiyu Sword Gate decline, watching Li Piaoqing bear it alone, you can't bear it in your heart?"

Zheng Dong was silent, raising a pair of red-rimmed eyes.

"Good, good," Xiao Qiu lowered his head, seeming to laugh, seem angry, seem to sigh, "Second Brother really underestimated you."

But he raised his head, his brows were still tightly furrowed: "But can you recognize your own weight, Zheng Dong—Li Piaoqing doesn't even need to draw her sword to kill you, does she need your help?"

"... Anyway, there are always some things that can be done," the youth said in a low voice.

"You are a dog, Zheng Dong."

"..." Zheng Dong looked at this second brother blankly.

He grew up with himself. Compared to the dignified eldest brother, he could always get more of his love. He took himself to practice martial arts and play through his youth, until he came to the prefecture city to mix, stained with many smelly and evil habits.

Now the two hadn't been together day by day for nearly two years, but he still saw through himself at a glance.

"I actually can't bear it either, but Zheng Shou is Zheng Shou, Cuiyu is Cuiyu," Xiao Qiu sighed, suddenly changing the topic, "Have you paid attention to Zhang Junxue?"

"..."

"Do you know why she bought this pill? What is she going to do?"

Zheng Dong looked at this second brother, his eyes blank.

"Shang Huaitong was right, you are still an immature child," Xiao Qiu sighed lightly. Mentioning this name, the youth's teeth gritted and eyes condensed again, Xiao Qiu ignored it and continued in a low voice, "Second Brother is older than that youth surnamed Pei by five or six years, but how much is the difference in mental state? Or can you do as Zhang Junxue does, and Second Brother will be proud of you if you die."

Zheng Dong's eyes were redder.

"But now, better go back."

Xiao Qiu patted his shoulder and said gently.

Zheng Dong pursed his lips for a long time, his throat moved, wiped his eyes, and finally nodded, unable to say a word.

He glanced at the feather in his hand, untied the small leather box at his waist, and put it in. Inside was a longer and older feather, its color already dim.

He took it out and looked at it unconsciously. There were characters carved on it, but it was very careless and had no signature.

Zheng Dong turned it over unconsciously in his hand and put it back in a daze.

"Go," Xiao Qiu sighed, "Actually, if you can listen to these words and think about them seriously, going back or not isn't that urgent—the Seven Serpents Cave is setting up a signboard for a famous and upright sect..."

Zheng Dong nodded.

"Go, let's—"

His voice was drowned out. In the drizzling rain, a thunderous explosion erupted from the Catch-Moon Building.

The two raised their heads in astonishment. Broken wood and rainwater exploded on the building wall, and in the flying wood and broken pillars, a green-clothed figure broke through the wall like a swallow.

"What..." Zheng Dong was stunned.

"Don't care," Xiao Qiu frowned and grabbed his arm. With just this glance, he had already seen that this person's strength was steadily pressing on his own, "Let's go."

The two avoided toward the distance with the noisy and startled crowd, but they hadn't gone far when Zheng Dong, who had been twisting his head to pay attention, suddenly screamed: "Miss Li!"

Stopped his footsteps and ran back subconsciously.

Xiao Qiu grabbed him, frowned and looked back, holding his sword: "I'll go! You go back to the carriage first!"

"I'll wait for you here."

——

Yang Yan broke through the wall.

The other party stabbed out with a staff, and the surging true Qi was like a blizzard and gale.

True Qi left the body, Seventh Life.

Before this surging power, Yang Yan's heart seemed to be tightly gripped. When flying out of the building, he glanced down, and the entire staircase had been twisted into fragments.

If he had executed his original plan, he would have lost his life at this moment.

"Murderer is here!" he roared, "I ask the heroes to help!"

After leaving the building, he didn't rush to fall into the crowd, but stepped on the building wall at the moment of leaving the old man's vision and leaped upward.

But this kind of trick of going against the move had no effect. The next moment, the old man's fine white face had appeared in front of him.

This face revealed very clear information. The old man had no other purpose for him, not to capture alive or ask questions—perhaps he had already recognized his origin—he just wanted to kill him.

The majestic power had once again arrived. Faced with a Seventh Life who was determined to kill him, for Yang Yan, every move was a life-and-death moment.

He abandoned his sword and drew his saber in the air.

Unless necessary, he would never draw this saber, and even less willing to draw it in front of everyone, but from the moment he lowered his head and saw this face, the situation was out of his control.

He could only respond passively. One move, two moves, three moves... every move was a life-and-death pass. Being able to survive was already a hard-won victory.

However, at this moment, Yang Yan knew that this saber would likely bring him a victory.