Chapter 472: Huyan Guanyin, Conflict of the Wild Ox

The sky is like a vaulted tent, covering the four wilds.

The sky is vast, the wilds are boundless; when the wind blows through the grass, cattle and sheep appear.

The slanting light shines in the evening, the sun nearing dusk. The setting sun over the desert beyond the Great Wall and the scenery of the grasslands always carry a sense of vastness and desolation.

On the grasslands, there are scattered lakes, like jewels inlaid upon the prairie, clear and pure, unstained by a speck of dust.

A young girl in green clothes sits by the lakeside.

Her appearance is bright and moving, beautiful beyond compare; she is a rare beauty in the world.

Her long hair hangs down to her shoulders, black as the night. Her flawless, slender jade hands hold a Qiang flute, bringing it to her cherry lips; her fragrant cheeks puff slightly as she plays a solo, the flute sound mournful and deep.

At first, it sounds very clear and faint, but the flute melody gradually changes, becoming increasingly resentful and sorrowful, as if recounting a heart-wrenching lament that makes one feel heartbroken to hear.

Recalling her recent experiences, the girl cannot help but sigh softly, and the flute sound becomes even more tragic.

The girl's name is Huyan Guanyin.

If she were in the Central Plains, for the Buddhist followers, this would be considered a highly disrespectful name. One might find a bald monk showing up at her door, holding a Zen Staff and knocking it against her head: "So you are Huyan Guanyin! So you are Huyan Guanyin!"

But in Northern Mang, many commoners revere and believe in Buddha, and many like to use names like Bodhisattva, Maitreya, or Manjushri, which is not considered strange. Even the attire of women is deeply influenced; in the winter months, they apply yellow substances to their faces to present a golden appearance, called "Buddha makeup," which is only washed off when spring warms.

Huyan Guanyin is not a native of this tribe; she was abandoned outside a felt tent while still in swaddling clothes, leaving behind only a token—a Qiang flute—engraved with the four characters "Yelu Murong," and she has been under the protection of the tribal chief since childhood.

As the girl grew up, she became increasingly stunning. Yet on the grasslands, a woman's beauty is merely cargo for those Xiti, to be sold or offered as tribute.

The Xiti of the tribe where she resides are merely minor nobles of the grasslands, capable of maintaining the status quo but lacking in ambition. Upon discovering such a beauty in their camp, they dared not enjoy her themselves and hurriedly prepared to present her to a Great Xiti in exchange for new grazing lands.

The tribespeople have deep feelings for her and, unwilling to suffer such humiliation, the whole tribe migrated.

That minor Xiti who controlled the life and death of the tribe was furious and dispatched cavalry to pursue them.

Somehow, this news leaked, and several neighboring Xiti found out, each sending knights, leading to another round of contention and struggle.

Few herdsmen died, but five or six groups of cavalry slaughtered each other, suffering heavy casualties.

But it is clear that those Xiti will not let the matter rest.

In this desperate state, Huyan Guanyin approached the chief, saying that if any more forces came to harass them, she would be willing to go to the Xiti's tent to trade for the survival of her people.

Although the chief felt heartache for Huyan Guanyin, whom he treated like a granddaughter, he no longer refused.

The old man was advanced in years; his own toil and hardship were nothing, but he carried the lives of over a hundred tribespeople on his shoulders. If they continued to flee like this, not only would they be hunted as playthings by the large and small Xiti, but the young herdsmen in the tribe who were being dragged into this disaster would eventually revolt.

Thinking of this, the girl sighed softly once more.

The large and small Xiti in the vicinity are often known for being cruel and lecherous; no matter into whose hands she falls, she will have no good end, and may even be tortured to death.

Thus, how could her mood possibly brighten?

The flute sound followed her heart, becoming increasingly sorrowful, almost enough to make one shed tears.

Just as the flute melody turned, another sound of a flute—a xiao—slowly rose.

The xiao sound shifted from light to heavy, from slow to fast, actually carrying the flute melody from sorrow to joy, making Huyan Guanyin unable to help but lift her spirits, her heart filled with a faint joy.

Before long, the xiao sound gradually ceased. Huyan Guanyin turned her head, her autumn-water eyes flowing with intelligence. Under the slanting rays of the sunset, she saw a figure in black clothes smiling.

His black hair drifted in the wind, and his appearance was as if carved from white jade, handsome beyond imagination. Furthermore, his grace was natural, his beauty peerless. That faint smile was like a ray of sunshine spilling through dark clouds, making one's heart feel warm. No matter what sadness or unhappiness, it melted away like ice and snow.

Huyan Guanyin had never seen such a man, and combined with his superb xiao skills, it stirred her heart, leaving her momentarily ethereal and dazed, as if drunk or dreaming.

The man in black plucked a flower branch, walked slowly to her, and tucked it into her waterfall-like hair, nodding with a satisfied expression.

Looking at his manner, it was as if he were presenting the most precious jewel to a beauty who could topple cities and kingdoms.

Listening to the breathing of the man in black, now close at hand, a flush suddenly appeared on Huyan Guanyin's fair cheeks, like a hundred flowers blooming.

The man in black smiled and said, "My name is Murong Tonghuang. I have come from a very far place and would like to stay here for the night."

The man used the Northern Mang language, which Huyan Guanyin naturally understood. She lowered her head, her pretty face still carrying a hint of childishness, her cherry lips parting slightly: "I... my name is Huyan Guanyin. You must go and tell the chief."

Yu Liancheng suddenly reached out a hand and pinched Huyan Guanyin's chin; it felt smooth to the touch, like fine jade. He applied slight pressure, forcing her to raise her head, revealing a beautiful face, her cheeks flushed, her skin so fair it was almost transparent.

The sunset spilled down, covering her, and for a moment, it seemed to drape her in a layer of mysterious color.

"They say the children of the grasslands are hospitable, so why, upon seeing a guest arrive from afar, do you lower your head? That is not a polite thing to do," Yu Liancheng smiled.

"I, I understand..."

Huyan Guanyin bit her lip, her cheeks burning red, though she had the intention to retort in her heart.

It was even more impolite to pinch someone's chin upon first meeting. But for some reason, once she met those eyes, she was suddenly unable to speak.

Fortunately, by this time, Yu Liancheng had already let go of that very impolite hand and asked very politely, "May I rest here for a while?"

Huyan Guanyin hurriedly nodded, even shifting her little bottom to make space.

Yu Liancheng sat beside the shy girl, leaned his upper body back, and very impolitely used Huyan Guanyin's resilient, beautiful legs as a pillow.

"You, you, what are you doing?" Huyan Guanyin's cheeks felt as if they were on fire; she nearly jumped up like a startled rabbit, and even her translucent earlobes were stained with a blush, which only added to her beauty, making her look stunning.

Yu Liancheng looked at her strangely and said as if it were only natural, "Didn't you already agree to let me rest here?"

Huyan Guanyin was anxious, her not-yet-full chest heaving violently, which was a sight in itself, and her voice seemed to tremble: "I, I didn't. I said you could rest by the lakeside."

"Is that so? It seems I heard wrong. My apologies, my apologies."

Although he said this, Yu Liancheng still lay peacefully on Huyan Guanyin's lap, his breathing seemingly carrying a hint of the girl's sweet, cloying fragrance.

"No, get up quickly." The girl was angry; she had grown up this much but had never encountered such a rogue. Her fair palms pushed hard against Yu Liancheng's head, but she could not move him at all.

Finally, seeing the other party comfortably close his eyes and ignore her, Huyan Guanyin had no choice but to stop.

The girl sighed softly. Listening to his steady breathing, she could not help but look down at this face, handsome to the point of being eerie, and could not help but feel strange emotions, her heart pounding like a deer.

Thinking about it carefully, she did not seem to dislike this rude fellow.

The reason for this was mostly related to the xiao sound that had brought her out of the depths of despair.

She could not help but touch the flower on her head and smiled slightly.

Perhaps it also had to do with this flower.

Usually, there were many men in the tribe who admired the young girls, sending many gifts openly and secretly, competing with each other, each gift more precious than the last.

But for some reason, no gift could satisfy her more than this flower, plucked so casually.

As for the other party's handsome face.

That is secondary; after all, she herself is a beauty who could topple cities and states, and looking at herself in the mirror, watching that near-perfect face all day, she has a high immunity in this regard.

At most, at most there is only a tiny bit of influence.

Under the setting sun, the water ripples, and the evening breeze brushes gently.

The handsome man rests his head on the lap of another stunningly beautiful woman; no matter who looks at these two, they give the impression of a match made in heaven.

But no one would imagine that these two have only just met, and their conversation has not exceeded ten sentences.

……

"Sigh."

A soft sigh rings out.

The one sighing is the patriarch Huyan Anbao, who is sitting in a tent, able to see Huyan Guanyin and Yu Liancheng sitting by the lake from afar.

The patriarch cares deeply for Huyan Guanyin, the granddaughter he picked up, treating her as his own.

Otherwise, when the Xiti sent word back then, he would have simply handed her over, and there would have been no need to suffer the hardships of displacement, and he could even have received a reward from the little Xiti.

It is just a pity that his granddaughter's appearance is truly too outstanding. And on this grassland where the weak are prey to the strong, for an ordinary person, beauty is merely a beautiful and vicious curse.

The next time he encounters a certain Xiti, he fears he will have to hand Huyan Guanyin over with both hands.

Thinking of this, the old ancestor lets out another sigh.

However, the two women and one man who appeared today do not seem to be ordinary mortals; he wonders if they can lead Huyan Guanyin out of this hellish cage.

"That scoundrel Tonghuang is trying to please a girl again." Murong Wuzhu, having just walked out of the tent, glances toward the lake and immediately feels indignant.

Huang Baozhuang's beautiful eyes darken slightly, and just as she is about to defend Yu Liancheng, her expression suddenly changes, as if she has encountered an emergency.

Because if she opens her mouth, she might spit out the Li Pearl and let that madwoman from Luoyang run out, so Huang Baozhuang can only gesture repeatedly.

"Sister Baozhuang, what do you want to say?"

But because Huang Baozhuang's hand speed changes too quickly, and Murong Wuzhu cannot guess the gestures as accurately as Yu Liancheng, she is completely confused.

But soon, Murong Wuzhu knows.

Rumble!!

It is as if muffled thunder explodes between heaven and earth.

In the distance, one can see thousands, nearly ten thousand, wild oxen galloping over in a mighty, vast tide, racing between the blue sky and green water, just like an army of one hundred thousand, driving straight in; the scene is spectacular and vast to the extreme.

The sound of ox hooves and lowing is endless, mixing into a desolate sound that comes like a landslide or a tsunami, wantonly venting their astonishing power.

But clearly, the Herdsmen in the tribe are unable to appreciate this scene with its peculiar charm, because these wild oxen are charging toward the tribe.

Instantly, the entire tribe is like a pot that has boiled over, thrown into chaos like ants on a hot pan.

The herd of oxen runs madly, and their speed is truly not slow. Watching the herd getting closer and closer, some old people are ashen-faced, while women and children cry incessantly. There are also young men running for their lives, caring only for their own survival.

Murong Wuzhu knits her brows; looking into the distance, there are dozens of riders driving them from behind the herd, and among them is a uniquely dressed Herdsman, wearing a nose ring and holding a cattle whip.

She does not know that this person is proficient in secret arts, and the reason those dozens of riders can drive so many oxen is entirely due to his intimidation.

Huang Baozhuang tugs at Murong Wuzhu's sleeve, her gestures changing rapidly, her pretty face filled with an urgent expression.

Although Murong Wuzhu cannot understand the gestures, she understands the other party's meaning. She pats Huang Baozhuang's shoulder and smiles, "Alright, although the scene is a bit scary, with that kid Tonghuang there, it's just a small problem."

Huang Baozhuang frowns tightly, clearly unwilling to believe it. The scene before them is too terrifying; it is not something human power can contend with. But seeing Murong Wuzhu's indifferent expression, she can only remain anxious.

……

By the lake, the herd of oxen draws closer and closer, the ox hooves sounding like thunder, kicking up a sky full of dust and sand; even ten thousand horses galloping could not have such an astonishing entrance.

Huyan Guanyin feels as if the blood in her entire body is about to freeze. Although she has lived on the grassland since she was a child, she has never seen such a terrifying sight, and she had not even dared to imagine it.

But she also knows that if they meet the herd head-on, they will surely die.

"Quick, quick, run, if we don't run now, we'll be trampled to death." Looking at Yu Liancheng, who is still resting on her lap, she pushes him hurriedly, so anxious that she is about to cry.

Yu Liancheng finally sits up, stretches, looks at the vast herd of oxen, and smiles at Huyan Guanyin: "Tell me, are these oxen afraid of lions?"

He ponders for a moment, but hears no answer from Huyan Guanyin; she is only using her slender arms to drag his body, seemingly wanting to take him to a safe place.

Yu Liancheng sighs and answers his own question: "One ox might be, but if there are ten, a hundred, a thousand... I suppose they wouldn't be afraid, after all, there is strength in numbers. But are they really not afraid? After all, this lion is not a vegetarian."

Having said that, he stands up, kisses Huyan Guanyin on the lips, and before she can react, he takes a light breath, and as his chest swells high, he lets out a violent shout.

The sound is like a great bell or a chime, and also like the roar of thousands of lions in unison, rising from a low hum to a high pitch, shaking the clouds, and in the blink of an eye, it spreads for a radius of ten miles.

Lion's Roar, also known as the Lion Roar Skill.

No matter which world it is in, it is a world-famous martial art. Even if it is not listed among the Seventy-Two Unique Skills, it is a commonly used method for Buddhist experts.

But when used by Yu Liancheng, an supreme expert proficient in Buddhist scriptures and several sound-wave techniques, the terrifying power is unimaginable.

An invisible ripple disperses in all directions; in the blink of an eye, the sound travels ten miles, as swift as thunder, yet it does not damage a single blade of grass or tree.

The Herdsmen who hear it feel their minds shaken, as if they have returned to their childhood, powerless and weak, encountering a lion that lets out a roar, leaving them liver-shattered and terrified.

And the herd of nearly ten thousand oxen, hearing it, is already seized by fear; amidst their lowing, they turn their heads and run in the opposite direction at an even faster speed.

Huyan Guanyin is dazed.

A crisis that could have wiped out the tribe has been dissolved into nothingness just like that.

She cannot help but cast her gaze toward the man beside her, filled with astonishment and admiration, completely forgetting the annoyance of being forcibly kissed.