Chapter 312

Mount Kongdong.

Night rain and autumn leaves wet the steps.

In the Sword-Telling Pavilion, Xiao Tingshu, who was closing his eyes with his sword horizontal, suddenly felt something and opened his eyes to look toward the north.

After a moment of silence, he picked up his sword and stood up; in an instant, he had arrived before that solitary building.

Before the words "Sword Master Ming" could be uttered, an ink brush floating in the air before the courtyard gate caught his eye first. In the drizzling autumn rain, cloud-white Qi surrounded it, neither stained by rain nor mud.

Xiao Tingshu stretched out his hand, paused in mid-air, and picked it out with his sword hilt.

A line of ink was clear and clean: "Encountered something abrupt, parting words are temporarily entrusted; the trip to Sword-Belly Mountain is therefore regrettable, we shall meet again in ten days. Respectfully, Ming Qitian."

Under the clear night rain, Xiao Tingshu frowned slightly, flipped the paper in his hand twice, pinched his fingers, and after a moment of silence, returned with his hands behind his back without saying a word.

————

Bowang City.

In the southeast corner, the massive pitch-black manor was as withered and silent as ever; in the cold rain of the autumn night, it showed even more ghost-like energy as if dead.

Silent, quiet; no one would believe that people still lived here.

In a quiet small courtyard at the back, no candles were lit; the cold sound of the spring in the darkness was even more like a block of ice.

But compared to a few days ago, the ghost-like, vague wheezing could no longer be heard.

There was no moon tonight; the man in the wheelchair sat quietly, his loose long hair hanging by his knees; his deep features were as pale as his lips.

But his eyes already showed the calmness of a flat lake.

A long sword lay across his knees; his single arm was hidden in his sleeve, and his slender, pale fingers gripped the sword hilt firmly.

"Can you draw your sword?" the black-robed person with a theatrical mask stood by the window; the window shutters were pushed open to both sides, and he stared motionlessly at the pitch-black rain outside.

In Qijiao Shang Huaitong's memory, he was always this quiet and motionless, not knowing what he was thinking about.

"I can, Benefactor," Qijiao Shang Huaitong pressed his sword and bowed his head; the voice in his throat sounded like it was ground out of iron.

He opened his mouth and squeezed out a voice from his chest with some trembling: "Having spent seven days in the underworld of the netherworld, it has been like a lifetime."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong absolutely did not want to recall those seven days of being a walking corpse again; now, holding the sword hilt in his hand, the solid coldness gave him strength again; he truly felt that he had climbed up from hell, having undergone an unprecedented tempering.

His body's crippled-like injuries were rapidly repairing under an unknown force, and his broken sword heart was also beating brightly in his mind-spirit; Qijiao Shang Huaitong had never had such a strong desire for rebirth.

This sentence actually drew a light laugh from the black back: "Is that so? Then what can you do after coming out of such a Nine Netherworld?"

"... Huaitong is willing to be driven by Benefactor for a lifetime."

The black-robed person laughed lightly again.

Qijiao Shang Huaitong hesitated for a moment and whispered hoarsely: "I seek the extreme of the sword path; I must have blood, the shame of yesterday!"

The black-robed person was still staring quietly out the window, and only after a moment did he say softly: "Seventeen years old, Clumsy Peak, Intent Sword, a talent gifted by heaven; Ming Qitian lectured on the sword with him... what a towering mountain it truly is."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong was silent and dead; the last name had already pressed him as if suffocating.

He gritted his teeth and said: "All things in the world change like sand; I will definitely crush this mountain."

The black-robed person changed the subject lightly: "Then do you know what a person with empty hands needs to climb such a towering mountain?"

"... Determination, perseverance, emotion and wisdom," Qijiao Shang Huaitong whispered, "... and... luck."

He immediately added: "Meeting Benefactor is already Huaitong's greatest luck; Huaitong is willing to join the Venerable Tower and serve as a dog or horse until death. Only hoping that one day... I can wash my hatred with blood!"

He could no longer hide it; the intense hatred was squeezed out from his throat, and anyone could see the violent poisonous flames burning in his heart.

The black-robed person was still motionless and did not turn around: "How long can you persist for this matter?"

"For the rest of my life!"

Another low laugh, but after this laugh, the black-robed person fell silent.

After a long time, he said softly: "Do you really know the feeling of exhausting your life for a mountain that reaches the sky?"

"..."

"Twenty years," he suddenly sighed, looking out the window, "Twenty years is already hard enough to endure."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong looked at this back silently; this was the first time he had felt the emotions of a "person" from it.

"To do one thing, those things you mentioned are indeed very important," the black-robed person turned around gently; the theatrical mask painted with gold patterns showed a cold and noble air in the darkness, but the voice was still as light and mysterious, "But to do something for more than twenty years, they are not enough."

"To do such a thing... the most important thing is a heart," the black-robed person said softly.

What heart?

Qijiao Shang Huaitong did not know what to say; he did not dare to ask, and the black-robed person did not continue.

Because just at this moment, his robe suddenly fluttered slightly.

The night tightened like a string.

Qijiao Shang Huaitong suddenly felt a panic; his keen sword sense made him immediately aware of the wrong atmosphere, but the black-robed person had not told him what would happen tonight.

"Bene... Benefactor"

"The time has come," the black-robed person said softly; he looked far away at the tall tree outside the manor, "Do you know who is on that tree?"

Qijiao Shang Huaitong was stunned; he knew he would definitely be monitored, but he had never felt that shadow.

"Li Weiru," the black-robed person revealed the answer for him, "You should know this name."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong's pupils shrank.

No wonder he had never noticed.

But how could it be Li Weiru? Isn't this the time when Cuiyu is unable to spare any hands? Monitoring himself... why would it need such a master?

"Because they are waiting for me," the black-robed person continued, "They know I will come to find you."

"..."

"Wudong and Anzang are both waiting; as long as I reveal a tiny trace..." he laughed lightly, "This is a net of heaven and earth."

"..." Qijiao Shang Huaitong had never heard of this matter.

"The Sun-Swallowing Society, 【Scholar】 Shang Minggao, bringing a true genius; if your eyes could penetrate two streets, you would be able to see them," he said softly, "The only good news is that Ming Qitian is finally gone."

"..." Qijiao Shang Huaitong still could not say a word; he felt cold all over now, because he had just extracted the initial question from the strange information filling his ears.

—Why would they think... that the person in front of him would come to find him?

Just at this moment, the black-robed person turned his gaze toward him: "You cannot accomplish this matter."

"Wha... what?"

"How do you think he would be if you were in his shoes?"

"..."

"You will never defeat him," the black-robed person's tone had no fluctuations, as if spitting out the most insignificant facts, "Obedience is stupid, resistance is cowardly, the heart is punished and the intent wanders, falling into a long period of no stillness—one defeat and you are a maggot."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong's face was pale.

"The only thing worth looking at on you is this bit of sword talent," the black-robed person looked at him and, for some reason, laughed lightly, "You say, when heaven and earth distributed sword talent... were they really closing their eyes?"

Qijiao Shang Huaitong's lips trembled as he opened his mouth, but he could not say a word.

"But it's not bad to be able to use that half-path of the Ghost-Life Sword again; it saves a lot of trouble," the black-robed person sighed lightly and gently held up a round object toward his eyes, "Then draw your sword against it."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong looked at this object slowly pushed before his eyes in disbelief, but not a single joint in his body could move.

That half-piece of jade was as hazy as amber; he recognized this thing.

Soul-Taking Bead.

Qijiao Shang Huaitong lost his consciousness in an instant.

(End of chapter)