Chapter 161

He could go down immediately and catch up with the girl, although that would also mean exposing himself, wearing his thin disguise, in full view of everyone.

For a moment, he truly had this impulse, because this matter was missing just this one link; as long as he grabbed this helper and told her everything that needed to be said—that the old man was hiding upstairs, please organize people to hold him back, Pei Ye had already gone to report to the authorities—then what he could do would be done.

He had already experienced the feeling of facing a strong enemy with a companion once, and the feeling of bearing this pressure alone with an injured body was truly not pleasant.

But Yang Yan still did not move.

He firmly suppressed the steps he wanted to take, refusing to harbor a shred of wishful thinking.

Just go up and say a few words; perhaps no one would remember, perhaps no traces would be left, he could just appear briefly... In short, as long as he took the gamble, this matter could be solved perfectly!

The youth carefully cleared these thoughts from his mind one by one.

A wolf not only has fierce animal nature but also sufficient patience and composure.

Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely must not take this risk.

He had always guarded his disguised identity well; he needed it to be clean and white, and it must never be stained with a drop of blood.

So far, only Pei Ye had pierced through his disguise—he had told him that name because he had already seen his face on the mountain.

Another hidden danger was the blade he had struck outside the building just now, which had been seen from afar by many people.

But these were unavoidable matters; now that the choice was back in his own hands, he would never act out of luck, much less give up and let things fall apart.

The youth's cheeks were stiff, his teeth clenched tighter; he watched that yellow-clad figure drift further and further away, while he himself slowly moved backward, retreating bit by bit into the shadows.

Anyway, he had always faced things alone; it was just another time acting on his own.

Yang Yan held the broken rib in his abdomen to keep it from being pulled by the swaying of his body, then hunched over and ran back with long strides.

Returning to the window on the west side of the building, he first looked into the distance and, seeing no sign of the old man leaving, only then did he gently lower his painful body to the floor.

Yang Yan knew his time away had been very short; after all, he hadn't even spoken to the girl.

He frowned as he looked out the window, thinking about his current predicament.

For him, to keep the cloaked old man alone, he had to solve one of the two problems mentioned above—either have the strength to block him or the ability to rally others.

Block him... Yang Yan envisioned it in his heart. The old man walks out of the building, he draws his blade and leaps down... this line of thought stopped abruptly here. Not to mention how many exchanges he could survive under the old man's hands, just speaking of using a blade in full view of everyone, he might as well turn back and find that girl in yellow.

And rally... the scene just now where dozens of people stood silent after his shout was still fresh in his mind.

This was a dead end; if he could solve these two things, why would he need to find Li Piaoqing?

The youth grabbed his hair in frustration, lowered his head, and twisted his neck, his gaze suddenly freezing on several large vats to the side.

A smell of lacquer drilled into his nostrils.

As it happened, the place where Yang Yan was staying was the storage room at the end of the building; this place could avoid eyes and ears, and also observe the pedestrians entering and leaving downstairs, making it an excellent hiding place. And the storage room was naturally not empty; besides various sundries, the most conspicuous were these large vats on the right side of the door.

Yang Yan got up and walked over, lifting a lid; the thick smell of tung oil and lacquer immediately surged out; it was the material used by the Zhuoyue Tower for painting and repairs.

Yang Yan stared blankly at these vats of brightly colored paint, and a wild idea appeared in his mind—what if he "marked" the old man?

If he could pour a vat of paint over him... he wouldn't need to be busy blocking him anymore, because even if he left the Bowang Garden, he wouldn't be able to disappear without a trace in a short time; he wouldn't need to seek an immediate response either, because even if the martial artists in the garden reacted slowly, they wouldn't lose the old man's trail when they arrived.

He did not have the ability or conditions to grab the old man's tail in this extremely short time, but he could lengthen the time the old man needed to disappear.

Trip him up a little!

Yang Yan's eyes gradually brightened; he paced back and forth in the storage room a few times, but the current difficulty was how to splash this paint onto the old man.

Wait on the third floor and pour it over his head as soon as the old man steps out?

Yang Yan himself wouldn't fall for such a trick.

A Seventh Life practitioner's Qi can already be released externally; although the degree of control varies from person to person, supporting a barrier to keep wind and water out is a very basic method. Even if the old man didn't dodge or evade, this vat of stuff might not necessarily touch him, not to mention that alert reaction and ghost-like speed.

To splash this dye on him, it had to be at a moment when he was briefly entangled and caught off guard... Yang Yan's heart stirred; couldn't he just move this vat to the door in advance?

To avoid eyes and ears, the old man would certainly not leap about in a high-profile manner; he would most likely seize a moment to slip out of a door or window silently and walk on the ground. He would see it from upstairs and leap down, shattering the vat with a sword strike. The explosive splashing would be ten times faster than pouring; if the old man wanted to retreat unscathed then, it would be much harder.

This plan was half-crude and half-effective, but time waited for no one. Yang Yan acted as soon as he thought of it; he glanced at the storage room, where there were stacked servant uniforms—this was exactly what he needed. He immediately pulled out a set, changed into it in a few strokes, and then lifted a large vat with both hands.

Worried that the old man was also observing the situation here, Yang Yan went to the stairs and called over two panicked and bewildered servants.

"Come and give me a hand! Move this vat down; it's for painting the walls later!"

Actually, this explanation was nonsensical; the wall had just been smashed with such a massive hole that it couldn't be repaired for six or seven days, so why the rush to paint? But in this environment where everyone was bewildered, as long as you spoke with enough confidence, you were right.

The two servants only thought they had missed something; before their brains could turn, their bodies had already carried it up together.

Three hemp-clad figures of similar height carried this vat to the door on the first floor.

"Should we carry another?"

"One more vat!" Yang Yan waved his hand, and the three of them moved another vat down.

There were three vats left in the warehouse, but there was no need anymore. Yang Yan dismissed the two, looked at the layout downstairs, and gripped his sword in his hand.

He stood quietly, and a certain momentum began to brew in his body again.

As soon as the old man appeared at the door, this sword would explode at the vat, and the huge sound would certainly attract the attention of many people; then he would shout, "The one covered in paint is the culprit!"

Although he himself would inevitably be stained with color, as long as he could escape, he could immediately return to the third floor to change out of this outfit... being able to change his disguise meant blending into the crowd.

Yang Yan thought with a smile, but his mind suddenly stiffened.

Had that old man also changed his attire?

He was even more convenient than himself, because he had been wearing a cloak from beginning to end!

Just like what he did in that restaurant, he only needed to find a random guest, knock them out, change clothes, and he could leave with a calm pace!

He would certainly still recognize him, recognize that face; if he walked out from downstairs, he would never miss him.

But the point was... if the other party had disguised himself, would he really still choose the sparsely populated west gate?

He could just walk out with the flow of people and leave from the main gate on the east side; who would recognize him?

Once this possibility surged into his mind, it became impossible to suppress; intuition, a certain intuition, told the youth that the old man had chosen this method!

No wonder he felt he had stayed in the building for too long... Yang Yan took a final look downstairs; his painstaking arrangements now seemed very ridiculous, but he didn't even have time to feel ridiculous; he rushed out the door, arrived at the east side of the building, and slammed open a window.

His heart was empty.

On the plaza at the east gate, people were walking out in an endless stream; such a fight had suddenly occurred, and most guests wanted to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible.

This process had been going on for who knows how long.

The Bowang Garden had neither the ability to stop people nor the standing to do so; in fact, they hadn't even thought about stopping anyone.

Never mind what to do if the culprit slipped away; that was the government's business. And where was the culprit? —there were no deaths at all.

Yang Yan's heart went cold as ice, deeply regretting his own stupidity and slowness—perhaps while the old man was strolling away, he was still there acting clever, calling people to move vats.

The promise seemed to have failed; in despair, Yang Yan gritted his teeth and prepared to pursue directly; perhaps he could still see a back figure on the street.

Although there were many eyes and ears below, he had changed his attire, and no one would pay much attention to a small servant.

He just didn't want to be observed deeply with the perception of "Oh, this is the person who was fighting just now," rather than being completely afraid of making eye contact with others.

But he was also worried that the old man hadn't actually left yet, and if he left, he would miss him instead.

But if he didn't pursue, what if he walked further and further away?

Yang Yan pursed his lips and gritted his teeth tightly.

Just then, a figure merged into the crowd below, making his eyes light up and his heart suddenly recover.

Old thief!!

He had indeed changed into an ordinary brocade robe, and the cloak had been taken off. Although he used an umbrella to cover his head, Yang Yan didn't need to look at his appearance; he recognized this figure at a glance.

Ha! He hadn't managed to leave yet!

But... he was already four or five units of length away from the Zhuoyue Tower.

Where was he to find another vat of paint? And how would he get it on him?

Within a few breaths, his mood rose and fell; Yang Yan gripped the door frame tightly, preparing to shout out loud first.

But this shout would definitely alert the enemy; although Li Piaoqing and the others would arrive immediately, this person would also leap out of the garden faster and lose his trail from then on.

What to do?

Yang Yan was anxious, thousands of thoughts surging in his heart; he stared blankly at that figure, the oil-paper umbrella covering him from above, even shrouding his shoulders.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning struck his heart.

At the same time, because he had forgotten to manage his gaze, the old man had sensed his direct stare, stopped, turned around, and looked up.

Before seeing this unmistakable face, Yang Yan's anxious expression had already been restrained, revealing a look of sudden realization and shock.

At this moment, when the old man's eyes looked over, Yang Yan's face turned pale, as if his secret had been discovered, and he took a step back.

The old man's body seemed to tense up, and his eyes narrowed instantly.

Yang Yan, as if a rabbit seeing a fierce tiger, turned and fled in a panic; in the blink of an eye, the person upstairs was gone, leaving only the window sash swaying slightly.

Watching this behavior, the old man locked his brows deeply. He turned completely around, stood still for less than a breath, and then, without hiding his trail at all, leaped toward the Zhuoyue Tower, rushing into the window where Yang Yan had just been staying with the ferocity of a hawk.

As if going to catch a thief who had stolen a precious treasure!

Yang Yan ran back with all his might, shouting at the top of his lungs, "The culprit is here!", and the window sash behind him seemed to be slammed by a gale, "Thump!" slamming against the walls on both sides.

The moment he heard that sound, Yang Yan knew he had won the gamble.

At the moment their eyes met just now, Yang Yan was inspired; the old man's various secretive behaviors flashed through his mind—he was also trying to hide a certain identity!

His concealment was not always a matter of life and death like his own, but more composed and solemn; he even had the leisure to wear a cloak and come up to drink.

This meant he was usually in a safe and stable environment and didn't have to worry about being hunted by officials like himself. But at the same time, his regard for this identity was no less than his own.

When the conflict broke out and he was exposed to everyone's view, Yang Yan clearly saw his deeply furrowed brows.

Then what if, at this moment, he pretended to have seen through him?

When he acted contrary to his usual behavior and didn't want to keep him, but turned and ran, would the old man dare to let him leave? Even with only thirty percent suspicion, the old thief would definitely not dare to take this gamble!

At this moment, the youth's speculation was confirmed; he grinned and fled back at the fastest speed.

The old man rushed onto the corridor, his hawk-like eyes scanning and locking onto the figure fleeing desperately on the left. At the same time, his feet had already kicked off the railing; his speed did not decrease, but his direction made a horizontal fold, and in the blink of an eye, he was already climbing onto the youth's back.

However, just as they reached a corner, the youth turned in, and the old man folded his body again; throughout the process, his feet did not touch the ground, truly as if flying above the corridor.

The youth in front lunged into a small room, rushing in without stopping at all.

The moment he entered the door, an explosive sword strike came from the left.

The power of this sword could not threaten him, but he had already seen the youth's action of drawing his blade with his other hand.

—Sword first, then blade; as soon as he received this sword, that blade would immediately slash down.

The old man saw through this stance at a glance, but this incoming blade truly made him feel alert; even though time was urgent, the old man did not act arrogantly to receive it; he tapped his toes on the ground, his body drifted toward the back right, and while avoiding it, he intended to see the reality of this blade first.

He didn't care about the bait sword anymore; sure enough, its owner didn't even have the leisure to change its direction, and it just brushed past his side.

Because his energy was entirely on this blade.

Sure enough, as their bodies approached, this blade finally revealed its ferocious face, making the old man's pupils shrink slightly.

The flow of power in this blade was completely different from ordinary martial arts; it was not explosive, but absorbing.

This blade was indeed hard to dodge, but it was not hard to receive.

By now, he had seen through the youth's entire set of actions; the next step was to push aside this little crab's pincers and stab him with one blade.

And at this moment, his body was still dodging backward, and because of this, several large vats slid into his field of vision from the corner of his eye.

A thick smell surged into his nose.

The youth's empty sword was still moving forward, about to touch the vat wall.

This scene in the corner of his vision made the old man subconsciously frown.

Yes, it was normal for this sword to miss and hit some sundries... but this smell, was it lacquer?

This was a scheme that could be understood after turning it over in one's mind twice, but the old man didn't have time to turn it twice; a sense of inappropriateness had just risen in his mind.

More of his heart and Qi were still placed on the blade on the right, and how to kill this youth with one strike after pressing down this blade.

The next moment, the vat shattered and the lacquer exploded; vermilion, emerald green, and golden yellow—gorgeous colors surged and released throughout the room!

That sword waiting for the explosion released its power deep in the vat, and a heavy liquid waterfall poured out. And at this moment, the old man, even because he had anticipated this result, did not make any defensive moves.

—If that sword poked it, if it was indeed lacquer inside, then this troublesome scene was originally to be expected.

Paint wouldn't cause any harm; this was not an important factor in the battle.

Until the first piece of liquid splashed onto his body, the horror in his heart surged up—what about outside the battle?

If he wanted to leave, how could he be covered in this stuff?

Color, smell, stains...

Qi immediately shifted and exploded from the right side of his body to the left, but it was too late to build a perfect barrier; before it formed a defense, half of the old man's body had become a three-colored little person.

And taking advantage of the old man moving his Qi, the pressure on Yang Yan's blade suddenly eased. This could be considered a good opportunity to attack, but Yang Yan only drew his blade and stepped back at the fastest speed.

At this moment, he had only one goal—escape!

Escape with his life!

The youth was also colorful; he couldn't care about this; the moment the vat shattered, he had already begun to retreat.

His goal had been achieved, but the old thief's goal had fallen short.

At this moment, he would not let him go!

Even if he had already shouted loudly when he went out, "I don't know anything! I was lying to you just now!!"

The old thief probably had seven parts belief and three parts doubt at first, and after being splashed with paint, it should be nine parts belief and one part doubt; but even if he believed it ninety-nine percent, he wouldn't give up on this head that was within his reach at this moment.

You want to leave after winning? Is there such a good thing?

Sure enough, the old man behind him was still scattering liquid, but he had already flown toward him.

Yang Yan gripped his blade, and a figure in yellow had already leaped up from downstairs; the old man still struck her down with one palm, but behind him, more people leaped up, looking in surprise at these two people covered in paint.

Yang Yan gritted his teeth and glanced back at the old man—aren't you leaving yet? Many people are already staring at you!

But the old man clearly had no intention of retreating; he looked at Yang Yan calmly, and his thoughts were extremely clear. Since he couldn't retreat unscathed anyway, why not finish the matter at hand?

It was better than not occupying either side.

While Yang Yan's plan succeeded, it also cut off his own retreat.

After being slightly blocked by Li Piaoqing, the old man caught up again.

Yang Yan knew he didn't have much left to hold on to; the old man was already reaching his back; after a corner, the moment he left everyone's field of vision, he immediately turned back and slashed with his blade.

But this time, his blade lost its magic in front of the old man; the old man's body fell, slid close to him from the ground like a snake, and his foot lifted, kicking his wrist holding the blade.

Yang Yan's Qi surged wildly, only then avoiding the fate of having his wrist crippled, but the blade was still kicked away, drawing a high and distant curve and sticking into the roof.

Without hesitation, Yang Yan exploded his last means.

His speed increased sharply, as if he had turned into a colorful gale, retreating violently; his back slammed open two wooden walls, arriving at the east edge of the building.

He relied on this to break away from the old man by more than ten zhang, but the next moment, the old man approached rapidly again.

It was truly near a desperate situation!

Damn it, Pei Ye, when exactly are you coming?!

With this thought rising in his heart, Yang Yan turned his head to look down.

His eyes suddenly brightened.

A team of galloping knights rushed into the courtyard; he saw the youth trailing at the end at a glance, waving at him.

Even at this moment, Yang Yan couldn't help but grin and raise his hand to wave back, satisfaction and pride filling his soul.

A gentleman's word is his bond!

He had finally held out until reinforcements arrived!

The knights in front had already leaped toward the Zhuoyue Tower!

That old thief was still in the building at this time, and covered in paint; no matter what, he couldn't escape!

Joy surged into his heart, but this was not the time to relax; the old man was approaching fiercely behind him, and the expressionless man flying up in front—Yang Yan also held considerable vigilance toward him.

He never forgot his own identity that also couldn't see the light.

Fortunately, although the paint was conspicuous, it conversely added a layer of disguise for him. Commandant Zhao looked over with a pair of tiger eyes; Yang Yan didn't know if he had recognized him, but in any case, his foot movements didn't have the slightest slack.

"The old man covered in paint is the culprit!" he shouted, and before the moment of being sandwiched by wolves in front and tigers behind, he exploded with that peerless speed again, drawing a smooth curve, and actually landed behind the old man.

In front was the approaching martial officer; this time the old man finally didn't look back, giving up on killing him.

This was actually already within Yang Yan's expectations, and the route he had just drifted back on also had a layer of design—if he put himself and the old thief together, it was hard to say who this Commandant Zhao would choose.

So he put the old man in front; this way, even if Commandant Zhao locked onto him first, the old thief wouldn't be at ease with Commandant Zhao; as long as one of them made a move, they would entangle first.

And this was almost a ten-percent certainty.

He could take the opportunity to plan his departure.

Yang Yan only felt that what he had done today could be called extremely dangerous and wonderful, having done his best in every way; watching the two meet, a sense of achievement surged from his heart.

Putting a Seventh Life expert into such a cage!

Commandant Zhao was certainly not enough to capture this person, but he was an extremely strong Sixth Life, and most importantly, his status as a court official; once he made a move, right and wrong would be distinguished, and those hesitating and watching on the field would have a direction.

Not to mention that in this prefecture city, once the government reacted, reinforcements and pursuits would be endless.

As long as the old thief fought with Commandant Zhao, it meant he was exposed to the majestic gaze of the imperial court, while he himself, hiding in the building, still had room to maneuver.

Yang Yan curled his lips into a smile; cold, hateful, proud, satisfied... all gathered on his face at the same time; he looked at that expressionless middle-aged man, and a bit of closeness actually grew in his heart.

—I sent this dangerous culprit into your hands; I can be considered a comrade for once.

The words Pei Ye said also surged into his mind... perhaps, he could really try to trust the imperial court a little.

But the next moment, his smile stiffened.

He saw the old thief and Commandant Zhao rush toward each other without dodging, then simultaneously twist their shoulders, passing each other with tacit understanding.

Then Commandant Zhao pointed casually, and an official attendant trailed that old man.

How the hell could he trail him?! That skill might not even be at the Fourth Life!

But he didn't have time to look over there anymore, because this commandant, who had been tracking him for many days, did not decrease his speed, and rushed straight toward him with a cold face.

For a time, pain, stiffness, fear... countless feelings surged up at the same time, but the most intense was an inexplicable anger; it was as if it were betrayal, and as if it were unbelievable.

You actually dared to let him go just like that?!!

Still owe 34 updates, I shouldn't have miscounted.

(End of chapter)