linfengchun

Capítulo 113

The door opened, and he almost bumped into Shuangjing. Seeing the tear stains on the maid's face, he leaned against the door for a moment, barely having the courage to look.

Startled by the noise, Jun Suiyu looked over and then smiled. The person on the bed... had a pale, thin face, bloodless lips, and extremely large, deep eyes, quietly watching him.

Suddenly, I felt my legs go weak and I stopped breathing.

Jun Suiyu smiled knowingly, reminding him as she passed by, "She just woke up, so don't let her talk too much. Doctor Fu Tian has checked her pulse and there's nothing seriously wrong. With some time and proper care, she'll get better."

He gazed at her intently, speechless, stroking her thin face repeatedly. She felt a little embarrassed as he gently touched her face as if it were a precious treasure.

"Don't think I'm dirty." The voice was light and weak.

"What...what nonsense are you talking about..." His eyes welled up with tears, and he forced them back.

"I...haven't showered for over ten days..." He was still a little breathless when he spoke the long sentence.

He was both amused and exasperated. He knew she was fastidious, but he hadn't expected her to care so much. "I thought you were saying I was dirty."

"Hmm..." She stared at the stubble. "So unkempt, so ugly..."

"You dislike me?" He wanted to laugh, but his voice was filled with bitterness. "If you don't wake up soon, I'll become even uglier."

A few strands of silver hair had appeared at his temples, making him look much older. I touched them lightly with my fingers, and my heart ached. "I'm sorry to have made you suffer."

He took a breath and said in a low, hoarse voice, "Believe it or not, if it happened again, I really would go crazy..."

She didn't speak, her long eyelashes trembling slightly.

There was a knock at the door, and Shuangjing entered carrying a steaming bowl of medicine. Seeing that her complexion had improved, she couldn't help but smile with joy. "It's so good that Miss has woken up. Everyone was so worried these past few days."

The atmosphere in the entire courtyard was somber, and the maids all had red, swollen eyes. Now that they were feeling better, they were overjoyed. After finishing their medicine and getting ready to leave, they suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, the young master is healthy, lively, and very lovable. I'll go and bring him over for Miss to see."

The couple exchanged a glance, and Xie Yunshu blurted out.

"No need! Pianxian just woke up, let's talk about it later."

Shuangjing was dumbfounded upon hearing this.

The person on the couch coughed, feigning weakness.

After the maids left, the two looked at each other guiltily, Xie Yunshu feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Want to see it? I'll arrange it when you feel a bit better."

She thought for a moment, "It seems... I don't really want to, which is strange..."

They instinctively rejected the culprit who had caused them so much suffering, showing no interest whatsoever in meeting him. The poor newborn young master of the Xie family was considered a nuisance and forgotten. It wasn't until more than ten days later that he finally met these irresponsible parents.

Meanwhile, in a quiet room specially set aside in Madam Xie's garden, a tiny baby was crying angrily at the top of its lungs, struggling incessantly in its uncle's arms, unable to express the endless grievances in its heart.

Extra-Crime and Punishment

The beautiful woman casually browsed the secret report, and upon reaching the end, a slightly sarcastic smile appeared on her lips.

Shuangjing suddenly felt a chill. "Killing someone is just a matter of beheading them, Miss, why go to such lengths?"

A cold, indifferent gaze swept over it. "Cruel? This is just an experiment."

Shuangjing disagreed, but was unable to refute it due to her status.

"I want to see if those moral principles that drove Fei Qin to his death will be truly upheld. They are all hypocrites in ordinary times, but when faced with death, their true colors are revealed. Did they really believe they were convinced of these outdated doctrines and would rather die than change them? It turns out it was all just hypocrisy." The words were light but cold and ruthless. "In that case, what right do they have to live?"

Shuangjing didn't understand, yet she seemed to understand a little, and ultimately chose to remain silent.

"From today onwards, your name is Zang Feng, and you can have whatever your surname is."

Her voice was clear and cold, which was very pleasant to hear, but lacked emotion, just like a mother's.

Even when coaxing him, his mother always spoke in a detached tone, a stark contrast to the sweet and cloying voices of his concubines. Perhaps that was why his father disliked her.

The way they looked at him turned disgusted and indifferent. They walked past him without even noticing him. He stared straight at them. For a moment, he lost focus and saw the two bastards who were riding on him and beating him slam their heads against the ground. The blood that flowed out blurred his vision, and he could no longer see their receding figures.

His younger brothers are not much younger than him.

He has had wounds on his body almost since he can remember. At first, his mother would hold him and cry, but later she gradually lost her expression and applying medicine to him every day became a routine.

My mother coughed incessantly and grew weaker day by day.

The maid sent by his father always brought him the medicine bowl without fail, but most of the time his mother poured it into a pot of lush orchids. He watched as the orchids withered little by little, their leaves turning black and scorched.

Everyone in the house looked at the courtyard with disgust and wariness, as if the people living there were despicable monsters. Their private gossip was vicious and contemptuous, but he was no longer affected by it.

"Mother, what does it mean to be the son of a witch?" he asked when he was young and didn't understand.

The mother didn't answer. Suddenly, the scissors she was twisting in a fancy pattern slipped from her hand and cut off a large piece of her fingernail, skin and all.

Blood stained half of the plain silk.

He couldn't understand how he could have messed things up to this extent, but he never asked about it again.

Father entered Mother's room once, because he hit his stepmother's son, and he never retaliated after that.

He didn't want to see his mother with a broken arm, unable to get out of bed for half a month.

Mother never complained; her cold eyes always held a hint of mockery, just like when she poisoned the gatekeeper and whispered as she took his hand. "A man like that, Mother could have crushed with a single finger back then."

"Why not now?"

His mother looked down at him and smiled. "I made a foolish mistake."

Escape, hide, be hunted.

He knew where those people came from. His father wanted them dead, and he also wanted that whole family to die, but his mother's illness was getting worse and worse, and her eyes were filled with more and more worry when she looked at him.

Mother doesn't have much time left.

He overheard the doctor talking to his mother in private.

Finally, one day, his mother escaped to Yangzhou and handed him over to another person, a girl who looked not much older than him. From then on, he had another name.

"You're going to seek revenge?" Dark eyes lifted, sweeping over him, revealing neither agreement nor disagreement.

"I passed the test, and my master said my kung fu is good enough."

The woman rested her chin on her hand and pondered for a moment, then smiled slightly.

"Blue Falcon."

"exist."

“Tell him the location.”

"He's gone?" The handsome face drew closer to Yunyun's temples as he took the scroll from his hand.

“You know perfectly well that he will speak up once he passes the trial.” The woman leaned softly into his arms.

“He’s waited ten years, he’s long since lost patience,” the man chuckled. “I have no reason to delay any longer.”

She glanced sideways at him. "It all had to be resolved eventually anyway, so it's better to go now."

“If I really do it…” the man sighed softly. “Bearing the stigma of patricide, it won’t be easy for me to establish myself in the martial arts world.”

"I bet he won't make a move." Although she wasn't the one who taught him, she had observed his character and was naturally certain of this.

"So certain?" He agreed inwardly, but deliberately smiled and teased. "Aren't you afraid of Zang Feng's youthful impulsiveness?"

“This child is different.”

Step by step, I entered the town of my memories.

More and more images evoked my emotions, and the murderous intent surging in my heart grew stronger and stronger. I almost couldn't suppress it. I had fantasized countless times about the moment of revenge, and now it was within reach.

The moment I saw the old house, I was suddenly stunned.

The once grand and imposing gate and walls are now dilapidated, half of them crumbling. The broken door panels cannot block the view, revealing the wild grass spreading over the courtyard and the peeling red paint on the eaves pillars.

As he stepped into the dilapidated house, a wild rabbit darted out from the knee-high weeds, staring at him without any regard for his presence. It shook its long ears and hopped into the house, and he followed it inside as if possessed.

The houses were deserted, their dilapidated and scattered objects suggesting a devastating catastrophe. Some places still bore faded, old bloodstains; none of the people he wanted to kill were there.

The courtyard where he and his mother had been confined years ago was also covered in cobwebs. He stood there for a long time before finally stepping out. A familiar face smiled at him from outside the door.

"Uncle Mo." A surge of anger at being deceived quickly rose within her.

Mo Yao shrugged casually. "Six years ago, the master ordered the destruction of the Fang family to avenge your mother."

"The person I wanted to kill is already dead!" It was as if a punch that had been gathering strength for a long time had landed on empty air, leaving an indescribable feeling of pain.

"Don't worry, the master left that person behind for you." Mo Yao glanced at him and smiled mysteriously. "I'll tell you the location; do whatever you want with him."

What would he do? Of course, he would settle the score without hesitation.

But... was that really the person he wanted to kill?

The obsequious smiles and fawning manner of the middle-aged man with graying hair bowed and nodded obsequiously as he wiped the table and limped as he cleared away the dishes. There was not a trace of a martial artist in him. The tall, strong man in his memory... The boy could not believe his eyes.

"The Lord destroyed the Fang family, killed all the concubines who had bullied you and your mother, and according to the rules of Tianshan, gave each of your brothers a sword, saying that only the victor has the right to live."

He listened silently.

"Then they turned on each other, which surprised the lord." Mo Yao's expression was neither regretful nor sarcastic. "I heard that Old Master Fang died of anger on the spot."

The self-proclaimed noble and righteous clan, thinking they could be more principled, actually drew their swords and slashed at their own kin in a moment of crisis, all for the sake of survival.

"The lord instructed that if they refused to fight even at the cost of their lives, there was still some merit in them, and they should be allowed to leave alive." Mo Yao shook his head. "Who knew they would kill each other themselves, without needing anyone else to lift a finger."

At first, they were timid and fearful, but later, as they fought with swords, their eyes turned red, and they no longer cared who their opponents were or whether they shared the same blood; all of them became targets to be killed as soon as possible.

"In the end, his martial arts were crippled, his family property was burned, and he spent years begging on the streets. He was taken in by the owner of a noodle stall and became a handyman, which led to his current state." Mo Yao patted the boy's shoulder. "Now it's your turn. Don't rush, think it over carefully."

He stared at the cowardly, busy man for a long time.

I recall my mother's bitter smile when I was a child.

I recalled the disdainful looks from my family.

He recalled being beaten until he vomited blood, yet he still had to pretend nothing had happened in front of his mother.

I recall that person's perpetually indifferent gaze.

I recall his haggard and resentful face as he lay dying.

His fingers gripped the hilt of the sword tightly and loosely, repeating this several times.