Urbaner Blumentraum

Kapitel 2

Dressed in white, she stood quietly amidst the blood-red hues, like a snowflake resting among flowers, graceful and elegant, with an air of unparalleled pride.

Thirteen Wolves stared at the sword in his hand, its white sharkskin scabbard and platinum hilt exuding a chilling aura even before it was drawn. He immediately thought of someone and couldn't help but shiver.

In the martial arts world, there are many people who like to wear white, but only the one from the legendary Maple Snow City, known for its "thousand acres of reeds like snow and a river of red trees like rosy clouds," can wear white with such aloof elegance and pristine purity.

If it really is him... then... what a damn bad luck!

After a moment of staring at each other, the man in white spoke: "The Thirteen Wolves of the Thousand-Handed Flower Picker?"

Thirteen Wolves tentatively asked, "Are you the Snow-Colored Young Master of Maple Snow City?"

The man in white nodded slightly, paused, and then said, "I've come to kill you!" His voice was as calm as spring water.

"oh!"

Thirteen Wolves didn't even bother to ask why. These self-righteous sects always had a reason for killing someone. It was either because he raped someone's sister, seduced someone's wife, or kidnapped someone's daughter—nothing new.

Seeing that he didn't react, the Snow-White Prince found it rather strange: "Aren't you going to run away?"

Thirteen Wolves sneered: "Why should I run away?" No matter how famous the other party is, he can't be scared to death without even trying!

Snow-Colored Young Master, the only son of "One Sword, Light Maple Color" and his wife "Full Sleeves of Thousands of Snowflakes," the lord of Maple Snow City, is said to be a rare prodigy in the martial arts world, unparalleled in the last three hundred years. Legend has it that at nine, he single-handedly challenged the Black Wind Manor in Shanxi, forcing its lord, who had dominated the region for twenty years, to submit to Maple Snow City; at eleven, he destroyed the Lianyun Alliance, leaving its leader utterly convinced of its superiority; at twelve, he challenged renowned swordsmen across the land, after which over a dozen famous swordsmen mysteriously retired; at thirteen, to save victims of the Yellow River floods, he single-handedly raided forty-eight strongholds in Jiangnan; at fourteen, to avenge the murder of an innocent farm child, he pursued the madman Blood Butcher for thousands of miles, finally killing him in the desert…

For many years, regardless of whether one is in the underworld or the legitimate world, when people mention the Snow-Colored Young Master of Maple Snow City, everyone praises his chivalry, benevolence, and unwavering loyalty. The white longsword in his hand, which can summon heroes from all over the world, is also known as "Snow-Colored" by the martial arts world and is considered the number one of the ten most famous swords of the time. In the martial arts world, there are many who have become famous because of the weapons they wield, but only the sword in the Snow-Colored Young Master's hand has become famous because of the man himself.

Thirteen Wolves sized up the white-clad youth opposite them, a hint of doubt in their hearts:

Rumors in the martial arts world shouldn't be taken at face value. Although Feng Xuese became famous early on, he's still just a greenhorn. Even if he started practicing martial arts in the womb, how skilled could he possibly be? He's probably just relying on his prestigious family background to gain fame and fortune, and has been elevated to the heavens by some shameless people...

Thinking about Maple Snow City's status in the martial arts world, Thirteen Wolves felt a headache coming on.

The Sky Over the Martial World is Clear - Part One (3)

These scions of noble families always consider themselves extraordinary, chivalrous, and dashing. They spend their days meddling in other people's business, getting into fights, or trying to look cool and show off their individuality. They are childish, boring, and utterly detestable.

However, although they may not have real skills, the power they represent is considerable. Being entangled with such people is like being bitten by a leech; once it bites, it won't let go and won't stop until it sucks out some blood.

He may not be afraid of Young Master Snow, but he has to be wary of Maple Snow City and its cronies—forget it, let's not fight. If we can't afford to offend them, can't we just run away?

His eyes darted around, searching for a way out amidst the vibrant red surroundings.

Feng Xuese looked at him and kindly reminded him: "To the right is the forest you just passed through, and Iron Palm Sun San is on his way with his men; behind you is a cliff, more than a hundred feet high. With your lightness skill, even if you don't die after jumping down, you will definitely be crippled; to the left, ten miles away, is the Moon Gazing Stream. If you can cross this stream, you might be able to find a way to escape."

Thirteen Wolves suddenly realized he had underestimated his opponent after someone had seen through his thoughts in one sentence.

Maple Snow Color continued, "However, I won't let you cross the Moon Gazing Stream."

Suddenly, he flicked his sleeves, and with a gust of wind, dozens of gleaming hidden weapons fell to the ground with a series of clanging sounds. Immediately afterwards, thousands of red petals were swept up by a fierce wind, swirling and dancing in the air, eerie and agile, as if flames were burning dust and the heavens were shedding tears of blood.

Thirteen Wolves gripped his hands tightly with hidden weapons, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. He was known as the Thousand-Handed Flower Picker, his hidden weapon skills unparalleled in the martial arts world. Yet, even if he truly possessed a thousand hands to pick flowers, he probably couldn't pull off this fleeting, alluring scene.

All he could see was a sky filled with blood red. Thirteen Wolves threw out all the hidden weapons he had on him as if they had been thrown into the sea, leaving no trace.

Until a waterfall of snow-white light appeared amidst the rain of flowers, and then, he suddenly smelled a bloody odor.

The real smell of blood, yet with a hint of warmth.

Before he could even investigate where the blood energy came from, he felt a slight chill in his throat. Looking down, he saw a silvery-white sword tip slowly being withdrawn, with drops of blood rolling down its blade.

"Damn it..."

Thirteen Wolves forced out the last two words from deep within his throat, and then, unwillingly yet willingly, he collapsed. Although he underestimated the white-clad youth, he had not underestimated his opponent. He had indeed given it his all, yet he hadn't even seen how the sword pierced his throat.

Feng Xuese looked down at the corpse of Thirteen Wolves, a hint of pity in her eyes.

He doesn't like taking other people's lives, but often, eliminating evil people is to allow good people to live better lives.

In the distance, the faint sound of light footsteps could be heard. It must be Iron Palm Sun San and his group who were tracking Thirteen Wolves.

Feng Xuese returned the sword to its sheath, her white robe fluttering lightly, and vanished in an instant among the fiery, blood-red demonic flowers.

The clear stream meanders gently, and the moonlight is as cold as ice.

Dressed in a fluttering, maple-colored robe, she stood on a blue stone by the Moon Gazing Stream, washing away the murderous aura from her sword.

Suddenly, a woman's scream rang out from ahead. The sound was short and sharp, but it sounded particularly mournful in the quiet mountain forest.

The birds roosting in the forest were startled by the sound and took flight.

Feng Xuese suddenly looked up, lightly touched the ground with her toes, leaped across the clear stream, and glided towards the source of the sound like a drifting cloud.

After turning two bends in the mountain, at the foot of the mountain lies a small village. It is late at night, and there is not a single light in the village.

Although the scream was only once, Feng Xuese was still certain that it came from this village.

Then he saw a headless corpse lying in front of the outhouse at the entrance of the village.

The corpse, dressed in a woman's undergarment, still clutched its blue cloth belt, its head perched on a low fence not far away. In the desolate moonlight, the lingering fear in its eyes was exceptionally clear.

A large amount of blood splattered all over the ground, carrying a warm, fishy smell.

Blood was still gushing from the decapitation site. The flesh was contracted, the wound was even, and the bone fragments were neat, clearly indicating that the head was severed in one blow with a sharp weapon such as a knife or sword.

Ordinary murderers don't have this kind of technique. Even those who slaughter cattle and sheep year-round cannot cut a person's head and body in two so cleanly and efficiently.

The Sky Over the Martial World is Clear - Part One (4)

However, this is not what Fengxuese is most concerned about.