Sueños Florales en la Ciudad

Capítulo 166

The moon rises above the willow branches, and lovers meet after dusk—what a beautiful scene, and he actually used it for a date.

The poet was waiting for a beautiful woman, so even in the desolate wilderness, his heart was filled with tenderness. But the person he was waiting for turned out to be a bald monk!

Master Kongkong was actually a fake monk.

Thinking of him brings a slight warmth to Maple Snow's heart.

Three years ago, during a locust plague in Southwest China, he worked tirelessly to raise funds for disaster relief, but a misunderstanding led to a fight with Kong Kong, who was also on a relief mission.

At that time, Kongkong was not yet the monk Kongkong, but the most famous swordsman in the Southwest, with the surname Xiye and the given name Yan.

One is a paragon of the righteous path, the other a ruthless figure in the underworld. These two hot-blooded young men meet under less than ideal circumstances, neither willing to concede to the other. So they make a bet: within three days, they must raise the most money independently, without any external assistance. The one who raises the most money wins, while the loser must become a monk at the Great Compassion Temple on West Peak for three years.

Nishino En lost.

So he used his thin, paper-sharp Forget-Worries Blade to shave his head, went to the Great Compassion Temple, bowed to the Buddha statue, acknowledged the Buddha statue as his leader, and even gave himself a seemingly learned name—Master Kongkong.

The saying goes, "Form is emptiness, emptiness is form."

This year marks the third year.

In just three more months, Master Kongkong will be able to return to secular life—which really just means growing his hair back. In the three years he's been a monk, he hasn't recited a single sutra or followed a single precept; he's been more carefree than when he was a gangster tyrant.

The thought of Master Kongkong with his bald head and sanctimonious appearance brought a slight smile to his snow-white lips.

Just then, he saw a burst of brilliant fireworks suddenly explode in the night sky, like a cluster of golden coral blooming in the deep blue night sea, followed by a sharp and high-pitched bamboo whistling sound.

Feng Xuese's expression changed slightly, and before the fireworks had even dissipated, he had already flown towards the spot where the fireworks had risen.

He and Fang Jianwu had always been on good terms, so of course he knew that these coral fireworks were the alarm fireworks for Tianshui Island.

The fireworks were not close to him, but they weren't far either.

His movements were as swift as lightning, leaping and darting about, appearing like a large silver bird in the moonlight, his snow-white robes fluttering in the wind.

Suddenly, flames shot into the night sky again.

Although he was speeding along, Maple Snow's figure suddenly stopped, standing quietly in the grass. The daisies at his feet didn't even sway, as if he had never moved at all.

After pausing for a moment, he slowly walked towards the fire.

The fire started at a tall tower.

Flames swirled and thick smoke billowed, like a burning torch, crackling and popping, turning half the sky a deep red.

The fire was huge; even standing several dozen feet away, Feng Xuese could still feel the intense heat of the flames on her face.

He gazed at the tower shrouded in smoke, his clear and wise eyes also blazing with intense light.

The tower must have been abandoned long ago, surrounded by old trees with sprawling branches and overgrown weeds. Only a few homeless beggars and vagrants occasionally come here to spend the night.

Maple Snow Color certainly didn't believe that the fire was accidentally caused by the homeless people warming themselves by the fire.

Not only because the firework display that alerted Tianshui Island originated from this direction, but also because the bloodstains splattered all over the ground were illuminated by the flames.

Although there were no bodies, judging from the amount of blood, there were definitely more than one dead or injured.

In the distant grass, there was a short hook, its tip reflecting the firelight, looking even redder than blood.

Feng Xuese suddenly gripped her sword tightly.

He recognized the hook and its owner.

He was a chubby man who loved to eat and was the leader of the Tianshui Island branch in Qingyang City. He was cheerful, chivalrous, kind, and fair. In Qingyang City, everyone respectfully called him Brother Zhang.

He also called this nobody in the underworld "Brother Zhang".

I still remember the last time I passed through Qingyang, Brother Zhang traveled two hundred miles overnight to invite a famous chef from the neighboring Xinsong County to cook for him, just because the chef's Drunken Chrysanthemum Crab was known as the best dish in Xinsong.

The Sky Over the Martial World is Clear - Part One: The Sky Over the Martial World is Clear - Chapter Four (1)

Thinking of that cheerful and righteous smiling face, a murderous aura gradually filled Feng Xuese's usually gentle eyes.

Suddenly, he floated up like a wisp of smoke, drew his sword with a backhand, and then a snowflake exploded around him.

Reflected in the bright moonlight, the snowflake was tinged with a touch of crimson, the red and white colors creating a dazzling effect.

Snowflakes and bloodstains.

It was his snow.

Whose blood is it?

A corpse fell from the treetop. Although it was just a mutilated body, a faint smile could still be seen on its fat, round face.

Maple-colored eyes turned red, and while still in mid-air, he moved like a bolt of lightning, thrusting his sword towards the tree behind him.

The sword silently sank into the tree trunk.

Suddenly, a snake leaped out of a half-dried well beside the tree and darted toward his leg—it was a whip, slender and black, yet more venomous than the most poisonous snake.

At this moment, the maple-colored sword was still stuck in the tree. He tried to pull it back with all his might, but at one end of the tree, the tip of the sword seemed to be clamped by an iron clamp, and he couldn't pull it out at all.

He released his sword, leaped up to avoid the whip, and then struck out with his palm. A blue stone beside him rose up and met the pair of iron hammers that were attacking from above.

With a muffled clang, the bluestone was smashed to pieces.

Reflected in the firelight, the fragments of bluestone displayed an unusual iridescent light.