Wei Li smiled, then suddenly flashed forward, pointing her finger at Cen Ji and instantly sealing several major acupoints around his wound.
"Doctor Sun," Wei Li called out loudly.
Dr. Sun, who had been anxiously waiting, rushed forward without even replying when he finally heard the summons.
"Thank you for your hard work," Wei Liyi said to Doctor Sun, his hands behind his back.
Doctor Sun waved his hand dismissively, his face displaying an expression of deep familiarity with Wei Li. "It's been so many years, yet you're still so polite, sir."
Wei Li smiled faintly and said, "If I weren't polite, how could I keep you, this divine doctor, here?"
"Don't mention it, it was you who saved my life, sir." Doctor Sun said, his hands busy as he skillfully applied medicine and bandaged Cen Ji's wounds.
Before Wei Li could speak, a clear voice rang out from behind her: "You shouldn't have come."
Wei Li slowly turned around and said leisurely, "How can the Kongshan Festival be complete without Lord Kongshan?"
As soon as the words were spoken, the expressions of those present varied: shock, doubt, confusion, awe, and a wide range of emotions, which were difficult to describe.
Wen Moyin looked coldly at Wei Li, "It seems you've forgotten what you promised me, brother-in-law."
Wei Li said calmly, "I did promise you that whenever you find a suitable candidate, I will give up the position of Master Kongshan, even if you act first and ask for permission later."
“But the person you found doesn’t seem to be suitable.” Wei Li glanced at Cen Ji. “He’s a good bodyguard, but he’s definitely not a good lord of the mountain range.”
Cen Ji raised the corners of his mouth slightly.
He never expected that the person who understood him best was this old man from Kongshan, whom he had never met.
“No one is born capable of being the Lord of the Ridge, is that right?” Wen Moyin retorted.
“But not everyone aspires to that position, right?” Wei Li said.
“There are too many things a person wants to do in their lifetime, how can everyone have their own wishes?” Wen Moyin frowned.
Wei Li raised an eyebrow. "But you just happened to choose someone who only wants to do one thing in their life." As she spoke, Wei Li glanced at Cen Ji indifferently, but Cen Ji's gaze was looking elsewhere. However, Wei Li knew that he was just thinking about someone else.
Wen Moyin frowned and did not reply. She was like a red-crowned crane flying against the wind, stubbornly refusing to bow her head despite the biting cold.
“The biggest difference between you and Jinlan is that Jinlan knows how to use what she can’t get to exchange for what she doesn’t want to lose.” When Wen Jinlan was mentioned, Wei Li’s usually bright eyes darkened.
Wen Moyin's gaze shifted, and she suddenly snorted, "My sister only asked you to take care of me, but she didn't ask you to interfere in my affairs."
Wei Li narrowed his eyes and slowly said, "In the past half of my life, I have only been involved in two things. One is to temporarily serve as the Master of Kongshan, and the other is to take him away." As he spoke, Wei Li raised his finger and pointed at Cen Ji.
Wen Moyin slightly raised her chin, a familiar gesture that stirred Wei Li's pity. She had always been like this since childhood; whenever she encountered setbacks and blows, she would unconsciously raise her chin, as if she would be devastated if she lowered her head.
Wen Moyin stared at Cen Ji for a moment, then turned around, drew the sword from the guard behind him, walked up to Cen Ji, and said loudly, "Seventh Brother, this is the last time I will call you Seventh Brother. I'm letting you go today, but don't forget, you still owe me a sword. If I see you again, I will definitely take that sword back!"
After saying that, she swung her longsword horizontally, broke it in two, and threw it forcefully to the ground.
"Go!" Blood gushed down Wen Moyin's left hand. Without looking at Cen Ji again, Wen Moyin turned to leave.
"slow."
Wei Li's icy voice suddenly swept through like a mountain wind, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone present.
Unexpected Changes (Revised Title)
"Wait," Wei Li suddenly said.
Wen Moyin stamped her foot, but didn't turn around. "What else do you want?"
A gentle breeze blew, causing Wei Li's silver hair to flutter. Her expression was partially obscured by the flowing strands of hair, making it impossible for anyone present to see clearly. Yet, for no apparent reason, they all felt a sense of oppressive, chilling aura.
The wind stopped, the hair fell, and Wei Li's cold voice rang out at the same time: "I've waited for so long, and you still haven't come out to apologize? Do you really want me to do it myself?"
Wen Moyin looked puzzled and turned around. She saw Wei Li flick his long sleeves, a flash of green light, and then hear the rustling of clothes. A man in black rolled down from behind the roof, holding the long sword that Wen Moyin had just broken.
The man who landed was tall and thin, wearing a silver mask. He was none other than Ying Shu, the ninth secret guard of Kongshan Ridge.
Wen Moyin immediately sensed something was wrong and couldn't help but look at Ying Shu.
"If you don't want me to take action, then you can do it yourself." Wei Li glanced at Ying Shu sideways.
"You can't take his life." Wen Moyin's heart skipped a beat. Ying Shu was her only confidant and the only person she felt she could completely trust.
Wei Li flicked his sleeve and coldly snorted, "Does that mean my disciple, Wei Li, can be assassinated at will?"
Ying Shu casually tossed aside the broken sword in his hand, then drew the short knife he always carried. The knife looked very much like Hua Ying's, but it was a few inches longer.
Ying Shu's hand holding the knife was pale and thin, with long, thin fingers and clearly protruding knuckles.
"You think that killing Fang Huo and framing Cen Ji will sever Ban Lan's feelings for this kid?" Wei Li's face was extremely gloomy. "If I'm not mistaken, after the Empty Mountain Sacrifice, the next person to fall victim to your poison will be your little apprentice Ban Lan, won't it?"
Ying Shu did not answer. He was unable to answer either. A serious illness in his childhood had left him unable to speak.
He stood there motionless, looking no more alive than a bronze statue. The silver mask concealed his expression; only his eyes proved he was alive, a person who could breathe and move.
However, his eyes were not bright; his gaze was mottled and desolate, yet it seemed as if he could see right into people's hearts.
Ying Shu's hand holding the short knife twitched.